Safe
by njborba
Summary: The BAU team is sent to track down an UnSub who's targeting twin girls, a case that reminds Emily of her sister's death twenty-five years ago.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

Note: This story contains some very small spoilers from season five, but nothing from the most recent episodes. Please enjoy!

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 1

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Most of the cabin lights were dimmed. Morgan sat beside Reid with Prentiss and JJ facing them across the table. Reid and JJ were playing a card game while Emily read. Rossi was asleep in a seat behind them and Hotch was laid out on the lounge. It was rare that their boss slept on flights, but there was nothing pressing and several hours yet to reach home. The case in northern California had been a tough one for all of them, but more so for Hotch and JJ due to their roles as parents. Not that seeing dead children had been easy on any of them.

Derek had listened to his music for about an hour, but it hadn't done much to calm him down. He was restless and unable to sleep. Reid had politely asked if he wanted to join in on their poker game. In lieu of real money or even poker chips they were using pretzel sticks. Derek shook his head to silently decline their offer. His focus settled on Prentiss for a few moments before he realized what she was reading.

"_Little Women_?" Morgan screwed up his nose as he leaned forward and glanced at the cover, trying to make sure he was seeing it right.

Emily heard the scoff in his tone and let the book drop to her lap as she regarded him. "What's wrong with _Little Women_?" she asked in a slightly more defensive manner than she'd planned. "It's a classic," the raven haired profiler pointed out, almost daring him to speak again her statement.

He shrugged a little, not wishing to rile her. A slow smile spread over his face. "You're right, it is a classic. I think my sister Sarah read it at least a dozen times as a teenager. But," he paused a second, not quite sure he should speak his mind.

"But what?" the daring tone in her voice was back.

"I don't know," he held his hands up in supplication, even though he'd already resigned to spit out the words on the edge of his tongue. "It's just that you read things like Kurt Vonnegut, and _Little Women_ in comparison seems… well, it seems kind of girly," Derek finally relayed. He sat back and eyed her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction.

The hint of a smile curled her lips, but it was gone before it really started. Emily pointed to the blonde woman beside her. "I know JJ is our resident media guru, but here's a little news flash for you, Derek; I'm a girl."

Morgan couldn't help but laugh out loud at that comment. And he was grateful when her smile returned, fuller and expressive. JJ chuckled and Reid wore a small smile as well, obviously enjoying the show. "That's true," Derek finally agreed with a nod of his head.

"You thought you had me pegged, didn't you?" Emily asked.

His head shook. "Nah, I'd never make that mistake." Derek watched her again as she brought the book back up to eye level. He waited just a second before leaning forward and snatching the hard bound book out of her hands.

"Derek," Emily's momentary lightheartedness came to a screeching halt. "Please give me back the book." Her voice was low, and not the least bit amused.

He didn't seem to sense her mood had changed and continued to tease her. "So, what actually happens in this book that makes it such a classic?" Derek flipped the item over and ran a finger over the gold embossing along the spine. "Looks like an old copy," he remarked.

"Morgan, give me the book," Prentiss growled the words through gritted teeth, using his last name instead of the first.

Emily's hand was held toward him, but Morgan remained oblivious to her agitation as he turned the book back over and opened the front cover. He noticed some writing on the first page and started to read what it said. "To Emily on her thirteenth birthday…"

"MORGAN DON'T!"

The plane's interior turned deathly silent after that as they all turned to stare at her. Hotch and Rossi had been jolted out of a sound sleep. JJ dropped her cards and Reid found himself with a lap full of pretzels. Morgan sat with her book still opened to the first page, but his eyes locked with hers. Emily balled her fingers into fists as she tried to stop them from shaking at her sides. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, watching her and no doubt trying to read her. Some days she really hated being surrounded by profilers.

"Can I have my book back?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Derek's.

He closed the book and nodded as he silently pushed it across the table to her. "I'm sorry," Derek whispered. Admittedly, taking the book had been rude of him, but he hadn't expected such an animated response from her. He'd just been trying to have a bit of fun with her, like they always did. Derek didn't know what exactly had set her off about the whole interaction but he was well and truly sorry. Seeing the hurt and somewhat confused look on her face made his heart ache a little.

Emily held the book close as she managed to reign in her emotions. She hadn't meant to lose her cool like that, especially not in front of her co-workers. They weren't just co-workers, though. They were her friends, some of the best ones she'd ever had in her life. But she still felt a certain amount of distance from them, a distance she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to bridge. Book still in hand, she stood up and faced the team.

"I'm sorry," Emily's apology was quick and simple. She then moved to a seat by herself at the back of the plane and stayed there for the remainder of the flight.

xxx

Morgan slid into the chair across from Prentiss the next morning. The others all quietly filed into the briefing room and took seats around the round table.

"Another case so soon?" Rossi asked as JJ passed out her report files.

"Bad guys don't take days off," JJ replied. She wasn't any happier about it than she imagined the others were, especially the part about it being a Saturday. JJ had barely had enough time the night before to tuck her baby boy in. And she'd had just a short time in the morning to feed him before the call had come in on her cell phone. "This one came past my desk about the same time as the last one. I chose three-year-olds over teenaged girls," she admitted with a heavy heart as the screen behind her changed to reveal two pictures. "I got a call from the Quincy, Massachusetts police department this morning. Another two girls went missing yesterday while we were on our way home." She pointed to the screen. "The first two victims were found three weeks ago in Boston."

"Two victims?" Morgan questioned as he examined both pictures. "Those pictures look identical."

Emily got up and walked toward the screen, coffee mug in her left hand. "They're not identical. Look here," she ran her index finger along the ear of the girl in one of the pictures. "This one has three earrings in her right ear and two in the left." She pointed to the other picture. "Her sister only has one piercing in each ear. Twins almost always try to find some way to distinguish themselves." Prentiss stood there for another second before she walked around behind the table again, but she didn't sit.

JJ nodded. "Tina and Tracy Monroe are identical twins. They were just a few weeks shy of their thirteenth birthday when they were found slain like this. The girls were both reported missing at the same time on a Friday evening, but their bodies were found at opposite ends of the city."

"That's odd," Reid remarked. "Twin killings are very rare, but most suggest a desire of the killer to be close somehow. There was a case of twin boys being killed in Milwaukee about ten years ago. The boys were always found together, tied together in fact. The Un-Sub was trying to recreate a womb setting. His twin brother had been killed in a car accident at age two and the surviving twin was never the same. This MO doesn't seem to follow that pattern."

"All killers have different reasons," Hotch reminded the team. "Sometimes we get too mired down in the typical behavior to realize that these murderers are always doing new things. We can't let ourselves get so caught up in what should be, but rather we need to be aware of what could be."

Morgan and Reid exchanged a look that clearly relayed their agreement. "I'm assuming these weren't the only victims," Derek spoke up again.

The screen changed to reveal another two girls who didn't look nearly as much alike. "These are fraternal twins, Stacey and Stephanie Colbert. They both disappeared while attending a friend's birthday party at a bowling alley two Fridays ago. Their bodies were found in Brookline at a public park. Today would have been their thirteenth birthday." A moment of silence followed, as if the team were memorializing in honor of their birthday.

"Were they found together?" Reid asked after a beat.

JJ shook her head. "No, Stephanie was laying in a copse of birch trees and Stacey was found near the playground; opposite ends of the park."

"Again with the separation," Reid noted.

"Why is it that twins always seem to be given names that rhyme or names that start with the same letter?" Rossi mused.

Reid jumped on the question. "Actually there have been several studies done on that very topic. Some concluding evidence states that parents use similar sounding names or names with the same first initial as a means of keeping the twins as a, sort of, singular identity. It's easier for parents to look after an individual child versus multiple ones. Sort of a strange kind of psychological phenomena. It can happen even in families without twins or other multiple birth children."

"Okay," Morgan shook his head. "That's odd." He glanced over his shoulder, curious about how quiet Prentiss was. Usually she sat during the briefings, but ever since she'd stood up to point out the difference in the first set of twins, she'd been on her feet. He also couldn't shake the feeling that she was still upset with him, and that was hard to take. Tensions in the team weren't a good thing. But it felt like more than that.

JJ advanced the screen again. One picture popped up showing two girls with dark hair done up in braids. They both wore happy smiled on their faces. "Jessica and Melissa Zanvil were reported missing yesterday by their mother when they didn't return home from school."

"Dark hair," Hotch noticed that all the girls fit that same description. "He seems to be targeting a certain hair color, or they were just the only twins he could find. Twins seem to be a slimmer category to pick from."

"That's not entirely true," Reid piped up again. "There's been a rapid insurgence in the rate of twin births in the last twenty years; multiple births as a whole, actually. Mostly it's due to the increase of couples who use in-vitro fertilization to help them get pregnant. More eggs are fertilized and implanted in the womb with the hope that at least one will go full term."

Rossi's brow creased a little in thought. "So, it's more likely that these twins would be fraternal and not identical? Does that help us at all?"

"Maybe," Hotch replied with a one shoulder shrug. It was still really early in the case to say anything for certain.

"At least these two have identifying names," Rossi added.

Reid frowned, running a finger across his lips. "If you really think about it, the names Melissa and Jessica are still very similar. Both have three syllables, the double s and the a at the end." He looked around at the blank stares he was getting and sunk down in his seat a little.

"What about the messages?" Prentiss finally spoke up. "The things he's carving in their backs?"

All heads spun around to regard her. "What messages?" Hotch asked as he quickly flipped through the file JJ had provided them at the start of the meeting. "Did I miss something?" he looked to JJ for an answer.

The light-haired woman looked just as shocked as the rest of them. "There were no messages that I'm aware of. The bodies were pretty clean. Mostly they were killed by a blow to the head or strangulation." She looked to Emily with worried eyes. "What messages are you talking about?" she asked, noticing that her friend didn't even have a file in hand.

Emily stood there for a long time before she replied. "I don't… it must have been some other case I was thinking about. Sorry."

Everyone turned back toward JJ except for Derek. He watched Emily for a moment, trying to gauge exactly what was off about her. But he couldn't seem to pinpoint anything so he also returned his attention to JJ and the other team members. "There is another case that the Boston PD are combing for reference," JJ began again as more photos filled the screen. Four girls in two groups showed up. "These four girls were killed almost twenty-five years ago in a fairly similar manner. Two sets of twins, bodies were found separated from one another, and they all had dark hair."

"Was the killer ever caught?" Rossi asked.

"No," JJ shook her head.

"Twenty-five years ago?" Derek questioned. "Are we really considering these deaths a part of the same case?"

Hotch sighed. "Unfortunately, we know that some cases have been known to span that many years. It's rare, but it does happen."

"There's one other thing," JJ said as she reached for a file on the table. She flipped it open and pulled out a 5x7 picture of another girl. JJ held it up for everyone to see.

The sound of something shattering caused them all to jump. Derek was the first to turn around and see Emily standing in a puddle of coffee and broken porcelain. Her left hand was red, clearly burned by the splash of hot coffee. She didn't appear to register the pain, though. He followed her gaze to the picture of the girl that JJ was still holding up. Reid was at Emily's side the next second, first aid kit in hand. He promptly applied some burn ointment and wrapped her hand in gauze. Rossi mopped up the coffee with some paper towels.

"Are you alright?" Reid asked Emily when he was done tending to her.

She smiled, thankful of his help. "Yeah, I'm good. I didn't get enough sleep last night, I guess that makes me a little clumsy," Emily tried to cover her unease. "Thanks for your help."

Reid nodded and sat back down. Derek was still concerned about the accident, but remained quiet as they all returned to what JJ had been about to say before the coffee spill. "I found another file grouped with the old cases. The thing is, it was completely blacked out. Except for this photograph."

"So, you think she was one of this guy's victims too?" Hotch asked.

"One?" Rossi posed the question. "The Un-Sub's MO is clearly to go after twins, but this was just one girl?"

JJ shrugged. "I can't be sure. There was only one picture in the file."

"Maybe they were identical and only one picture was included," Reid pitched in his thoughts.

"It seems unlikely," JJ replied. "The police are usually more thorough than that. And there were no other photos, nothing with a body or crime scene."

Derek glanced at the picture again. "Maybe she was one of the lucky ones, maybe she got away or was found?"

"All possibilities," Hotch acknowledged as he closed his file. "Either way, it looks like we've got ourselves a case." He glanced down at his watch. "I've got an important report that needs to get out this morning or heads will roll. Why don't we shoot for a twelve-thirty departure. That gives me about an hour. If I'm not done by then, I'll have to take it with me and face the wrath of the bass. I don't want these girls to wait any longer."

They all nodded and filtered out of the room. Derek was going to stop Emily, but she was gone before he could even stand up. Instead, he walked around the table and looked down at the picture of the last girl JJ had shown them. Something about it called to him and he picked it up to examine it more closely. "Who are you, mystery girl? And what secrets might you be able to tell us?" he whispered to himself.

xxx

He was barely through the door when he heard Garcia speak. "Apologies are good, but flowers are better."

"What?" Morgan put a hand to the back of her chair and spun her around.

The technical analyst flashed a lopsided frown. "Emily, I heard you pissed her off on the plane ride home last night," she arched her brow and turned back to the computer at her desk.

Derek sighed, crossing arms over his chest while still holding an object in one hand. "Where did you hear that?" he asked.

She smiled knowingly. "JJ might have mentioned it."

"You know I was just goofing around with her, baby girl. Just a little teasing to cut the tension, the way we all tease each other. We'd just solved a case that involved a guy who was killing three year old kids and locking them in a freezer. Not even my music was calming those demons."

"I'm sorry," she put a hand on his forearm and squeezed it affectionately. "But I imagine Emily was just as upset by it all, and you sat there and read a personal inscription in her book; out loud for the others to hear."

Morgan uncrossed his arms. "Did JJ give you an entire transcript of what happened last night?"

"Just the cold hard facts," Penelope smirked.

He felt even worse, hearing how his misdeeds sounded coming out of Garcia's mouth. Derek tried to think of something that he might be able to do to smooth things over. "Isn't her birthday coming up?"

"Miss Libra, yes," Garcia nodded. "I believe Reid said her birthday was October twelfth."

Derek sighed. "Five days. I have five days to think of a way to make this up to her."

Garcia arched her eyebrows again. "Chocolate is divine and diamonds are a girl's best friend," she replied in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah, yeah," he shook his head at her antics and leaned over her chair as he sat a file down on her desk. "I need you to run something for me." Derek flipped open the file folder and used his right index finger to point down at the photo in question.

"Cute kid, who is she?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We think she might have been murdered twenty-five years ago in connection with some other cases back then." Derek hated to see how her face fell when he mentioned the murdered girl. More days than he could count he wished his job were a happier one. "The other four killed around the same time were two sets of twin girls, all aged thirteen. This picture was in a file on its own, everything else was blacked out."

"Blacked out?"

"Most likely sealed up tight by some official. But those past cases might link up with the case JJ just went over with us," he revealed. "Do you think you can get a hit on the picture?"

"You know I will do my very best," Garcia replied as she scanned the picture into her system. "And…voila." The image popped onto her screen and Garcia started tapping into all the data bases that she could think to look for information on a thirteen year old girl. She glanced over to see that Morgan was pulling up a chair beside her. "Uh, this could take a while. Don't you have a plane to catch?"

Derek sat down. "Wheels don't go up for an hour. I've got some time." He placed an elbow on the chair's arm and leaned his head against his hand.

"All right, what's going on with you former boss-man?" Garcia asked even as she continued to click away on her computer. "I know taking over Hotch's duties was rough, and giving him back the reins can't have been easy either. If that's all there is then I understand, but it seems like more. Is it more?" she pressed.

Morgan grinned, wondering when she'd grown eyes on the side of her head. She could see his troubles from a mile away. But it went both ways. "Nothing," he tried to cover it up. When she turned, rolled her eyes at him and then turned away again Derek knew there was no amount of lying that could quell her inquisitive mind. "It's about that woman whose brother was killed. And before you say anything more, I know you told me it was a bad idea. I didn't listen."

"Was it a bad idea?" Garcia queried.

He nodded. "Yeah, bad on a lot of levels."

"Well, we won't even touch the fact that she was a victim's relative," Garcia shook her head, trying to keep her I-told-you-so look to a minimal. "However, trying to force a relationship with someone when you're really not interested but just trying to cover up the fact that you have feelings for someone else who you don't think you can or should be with… well, that's the real issue, isn't it?"

Derek stared at her for a long moment before he threw his hands up. "I'm not even sure what all you just said."

"You can not lie to me, Derek Morgan," she replied. "I know more about the goings on in this BAU unit than I ever let on and…" her computer beeped loudly, causing the woman's train of thought to return to the job. "I think I might have something already." Garcia typed away for a few seconds. "This photo tripped an archive at a picture studio that specializes in school portraits. Picture Perfection," she named the company. "It deals with digital photos these days, but they have a massive archive from the last thirty years. It looks like everything was scanned in by hand. I'm sure that was a fun task for someone. Apparently the company has been run by two generations of the same family. Currently under a Rodney Metcalf Jr."

Morgan leaned forward. "You need to give me more than that. What about the picture?"

"I'm working on it, my impatient love," she quipped. "The photo in the company's database doesn't have a name, but it is tagged with a school ID number and year." Garcia continued to scroll through the data. "Got it; The Winsor School. The picture was taken in 1984."

"Twenty-five years ago," Derek acknowledged. "Well, at least it seems to be in the right timeline. What can you find out about the school?"

"Already ahead of you there," she had the school's web site up and displayed on her main monitor. "It's a private, all girls, school in Boston. A school for academically promising and motivated girls, grades five through twelve," she read the words at the top of the screen in a hoity tone. "I'm accessing their databank right now, looks like it goes back well past the twenty-five year mark. Here we are, 1984… eliminating all male students from the search criteria," she glanced over her shoulder. There wasn't even a smirk of acknowledgment for her bad joke. Garcia returned to the land of serious. "I found a match for her picture, but… hmm, the file is all blacked out except to state that she was in the seventh grade."

Derek drummed his fingers on the back of her chair. "Just like the case file. What else can you get me? Anything useful?"

She shook her head. "There's nothing. I don't get it. Someone went to a lot of trouble to keep this girl anonymous."

"Or to try and forget her," Morgan mused aloud. He wasn't sure why that particular thought had come to mind, but it was sticking firm for the moment.

"Whoa, ho, ho… back up the school bus, Mr. Principal," Penelope squinted at the screen as she scrolled back through the names of the students in the girl's seventh grade class. She could have sworn she'd just seen something familiar flick past her eyes. "Gotcha!" She pulled up the name that had caught her attention. "Well, this is certainly interesting. Look who went to school with her that year," Garcia moved her head so he could see the screen a little better.

He felt his gut tighten. "Is that for real?"

"Yep, same grade and everything," Garcia reported.

"You think that's just coincidence?"

Penelope sighed. "Any other line of work, maybe. Our line of work, probably not. That's the only hit I got on the photo. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, baby girl," Derek shook his head. "This is more than enough for now. Thanks."

Garcia watched him go, but she didn't feel very good about the information she'd just armed him with.

xxx

Just twenty minutes after take off the team had already finished going over the case. Mostly because there was very little to go over. Derek pulled out the picture he'd had Garcia run through the system for him. He got up and moved toward the table where Hotch, Emily and JJ were all seated. Looking down at Hotch, Derek softly asked the man to scoot over so he could take a seat with them. Hotch promptly obliged him.

He placed the picture on the table's surface. "I think figuring out the identity of this mystery girl could be a big help," Morgan said as he looked to Hotch and then JJ.

JJ nodded. "I agree, do you have any ideas on how to accomplish that?"

"I already had Garcia run the picture," Derek responded. "And there's someone on this plane who I think can tell us at least some of what we need to know."

Hotch looked to Derek, then to JJ and finally back to Morgan again. "I'm afraid I'm not following," he admitted.

Derek slid the picture across to where Emily was sitting; the very same Emily who had dropped her gaze the second Morgan had sat down in front of her. "Can you tell us who she is?" he asked. "Even just a name would be a big help," he implored the woman.

"Please, don't do this," Emily's voice was softer than most of them had ever heard before. There was also a distinct crack in her tone that betrayed her fragile state of mind.

Morgan extended his hand across the table and rested it atop one of Emily's, the one that hadn't been burned. "I know the two of you attended the same school in the seventh grade. All I need from you is a name, something more searchable than this photograph."

Hotch rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward in his seat. "If you know something about this case, Prentiss, I'd like to hear it." He tried not to sound so clinical about it, clearly seeing and hearing her distress. But the lives of two young girls were hanging in the balance and they needed all the information they could get. "If you can help Jessica and Melissa, wouldn't you want to do that?" He deliberately used the girl's names to appeal to her kind heart. "Their lives could depend on this information."

"Don't you think I know that?" She sat up straighter and finally faced the two men. Emily felt JJ place a comforting hand against her shoulder.

Derek could see the tears welling in her eyes. He squeezed her hand, feeling bad for having ambushed her. "What was her name?"

She sighed and bit down hard on her bottom lip to keeps the tears at bay. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of her team. "Erica," the name came out in a raspy whisper.

Morgan gripped her hand a little tighter. "You two were close?" he asked, though he could already hear the confirmation in her strained voice.

"She was my best friend," Emily revealed to them. Her eyes moved to the picture and her bottom lip trembled as she looked down at the girl in the photo. She wanted to both smile and scream as she regarded the girl who looked so serene. Emily remembered another time she'd seen a picture of the girl; a time when Erica had looked anything but serene. "She was also my twin sister," she finally admitted with a shaky breath. One solitary tear rolled down her cheek. It beaded at her chin and then dropped, landing on the picture of Erica.

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**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 2

By N. J. Borba

* * *

The soft hum of jet engines echoed through the space. It was a familiar and almost comforting sound to Emily. She'd logged a lot of flight time in her life, both as a child following her mother from country to country, and as an adult for her job. She sat up a little straighter and swiped away the fallen tear as she stared at Erica's picture. Derek's hand stayed upon hers, lending a comforting warmth. But she quickly hid her momentary emotional slip by pulling on her profiler mask.

She ran a finger over the photo, wiping away her teardrop. "We're obviously not identical," Emily spoke, looking only to the picture. "I got my great-grandmother's nose," she chuckled and finally looked up. The first thing she did was seek out Reid. Her eyes locked with his. "Erica and Emily, I guess my parents added fuel to that name theory you were talking about."

Reid bestowed her with a tight-lipped smile, the kind that upturned only one side of his mouth. "There's something I don't understand, though. When I looked up your birth date…" he admitted to having snooped into her private life. It had happened shortly after she'd confronted him about his odd behavior years ago, when he'd been trying to rid himself of a drug problem. Reid had snapped at her. He still felt terrible about it to this day. But back then he'd been looking for some way to make her a bad guy, so he wouldn't have to face his own demons. He'd looked up as much information as possible on her. "The birth certificate just lists your birth. There was nothing about a sister."

Emily sighed. "It's not that hard to request a new birth certificate. With enough money and power, you can make just about anyone disappear."

"You're referring to your mother?" Hotch asked, recalling a bit of a conversation they'd once had about politics. He could still hear some of her words very clearly in his head: _"It makes people distrustful, makes them hate themselves; tears families apart."_

"Yes," the single word was laced with year's worth of resentment. She and her mother had, over the years, come to an understanding of sorts. But they were still far from the Norman Rockwell depiction of a picture perfect family.

Rossi cleared his throat. "Can you tell us what happened to your sister? Odds are this isn't this same Un-Sub, but…"

"It's always good to explore the possibilities," Emily finished his thought and promptly took off from there. "We'd been back in the states for a few months. My mother was in between overseas assignments, so we went to Boston for a while. Mother had a friend there who gave her some work," she began. Emily was keenly aware that Derek's hand was still resting on hers and she drew strength from his presence as the words started to flow. Year's worth of captivity had made the story crystal clear in her head. Now that she was finally free to let it out, it was almost a relief.

She took a deep breath and continued. "My parents asked what we wanted to do for our thirteenth birthday. They said we could go anywhere we wanted, a special trip. Erica and I had already circled the globe twice by that age and we really just wanted to go somewhere close. We picked Cape Cod. My parents had a place out there back then. All we wanted was for our mom to be there and, of course, we wanted chocolate cake." She spoke of the combination with a hint of happiness and sorrow.

"So that's where you went?" Derek asked.

Emily nodded. "My mother did it, she took the whole week off and she even got us the chocolate cake. She bought it at a store, but she got it." Emily had been so happy that day, with her parents and sister. She'd had so much faith in her mother back then. Elizabeth Prentiss had been a very different person. "Three days later Erica and I begged mother to let us walk down to the marina without her or daddy. We thought since we were official teenagers we should have more privileges."

Derek could see the way her eyes changed as she shifted from the birthday story to her three days later tale. He glanced over to see that JJ was writing things down on a pad of paper. It was probably a subconscious thing for her, they were always careful to take notes of witness testimonies. Derek hated to think of Emily as a witness, especially if her story headed where he thought it was going. "Did she let you go?"

"She did," Emily replied. "My sister and I thought we were so grown up as we walked to the little marina store that afternoon," she chuckled at the memory, realizing how foolish they'd actually been. "We each got a few dollars to spend. Erica bought a soda; root beer. Mother rarely ever allowed us to drink the stuff."

"And what did you get?" Derek pushed her along when there were small pauses in her story. The others all remained quiet, seeing that he'd taken the lead. They usually left it to one person to do the questioning in such delicate situations. As much as they cared for Emily as a friend, they were profilers at heart. It was easy to slip into that mode.

Her lips curled into a smile. "Potato chips, something else my mother didn't allow in the house." Emily glanced around at them all for a moment. "Now you know why the chocolate cake was such a big deal." Her smile faded a bit as she refocused. "We sat on a bench at the end of the dock, near the water. Erica and I shared the treats we'd bought. We sat for a long time, watching the boats come in after a day out on the water. It was nice, but the wind kicked up as the sun started going down."

Derek could see the shift in her eyes again. Each segment of the story brought more darkness to the light he'd seen when the tale had first begun with a happy birthday gathering. "Did you start home then? Your parents must have given you some time limit for the outing, a curfew maybe?"

"Dark," Emily nodded. "We were supposed to be home by dark, but Erica saw someone she wanted to talk to."

"Who was that?"

"A boy," she recalled her sister's heightened interest in boys at that time. "I don't remember his first name, Adam maybe. He was the Carlyle's youngest son. They were really good friends of my parents back then. They always used to send us a Christmas card no matter where we were at the time, even overseas."

Morgan easily picked up on a few key words that she'd used. He noted the way she'd said, _back then_. And also that they _used to_ send cards, which signaled to him that they no longer did. He had a pretty good feeling that those hints of former friendship had to do with Ambassador Prentiss cleaning house, so to speak, after what had happened to her daughter. "She liked this boy?" he finally asked.

Emily shrugged. "I guess. She liked a lot of boys. Erica talked about the boys at the private school across the street from ours. Some days after school she'd go talk to them."

"So, the two of you went over to talk to this boy that evening at the marina," Derek tried to get her back on track as she began to wander.

"No," her eyes narrowed as she shook her head. "Erica went to talk to him. I stayed on the bench."

Derek grinned a little. "You didn't like him, or you weren't interested in boys yet?"

She smiled too as she looked him in the eye. "I'm a nerd, remember?" Emily knew he recalled the first real conversation they'd had, about something other than a case. He'd been the first one to really open up and let her in as part of the team. "I didn't really want anything to do with boys until a few years later." She quickly clammed up about that topic, knowing that only Rossi would understand why. "She talked to him for a while."

"So it was getting dark?" he moved the story along again.

"Yes," Emily answered as her mind returned to that time. "I watched them for a short time and then I turned away. There was a gorgeous sailboat pulling in and I was fascinated by it, the way the wind whipped its sails around. Then I noticed a bird, a blue jay, he was hopping around. I fed him the crumbs from the bottom of my chip bag."

"And when you turned your attention back to Erica, she was gone," Derek guessed.

"No," Emily replied. "She was still there. I finally got up and went over to her. I told her mom was going to be upset and she probably wouldn't let us do anything else like that for a long time if we disappointed her."

Derek noticed the way she said the word, _disappointed_. He had a feeling that was an emotion she got from her mother often. "Did that get her to go with you?"

She nodded. "I drug her away and she was kind of upset for a few minutes, but she never stayed mad at me for long. About half way back home we were walking with our arms linked and singing some silly song. Erica was a good singer, I was not. But that didn't matter to her; she always wanted me to sing with her. She managed to get me to do a lot of things I wouldn't have if not for her being around."

It broke Derek's heart to see the happy smile on her face as she recalled those joyful times with her sister. But he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. "What song were you singing?" he asked, thinking it might help jog her memories.

"That song from the movie. _The Sound of Music_."

"If I recalled correctly, there were a lot of songs in that movie," Derek replied. "My mom liked to watch that one every year when it aired around Thanksgiving time."

Emily smiled a little at what he'd said. "Did you watch it with her, Derek? It's kind of a girly movie, don't you think?"

Despite the seriousness of their conversation just moments ago, Derek found himself laughing. He was relieved to have her joking even as she relived what was probably one of the worst ordeals of her life. "Yeah, Derek Morgan watched a girly flick. You got me, Prentiss," he admitted. The smile she gave him was worth it.

But her smile slipped away too soon. "It was the dog bite song."

"When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad…" JJ broke formation and spoke up, or sang rather. She remembered some of the song. "I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad." Noticing the others had turned all eyes her way, the woman shrugged. "I don't sing very well either."

"Is that the song?" Derek asked, getting back to business, though he hated to think of it that way. He still wasn't sure any part of Emily's story would pertain to their newest case, but Rossi and Emily were right. It was best to explore all possibilities.

"Yes," Emily shared a look with JJ. The blonde woman had become a bit like a sister to her over the years. She was thankful to have such good people in her life. "Erica played Liesl in a school production when she was ten years old. That's when we were in Switzerland." Emily closed her eyes for a moment and tried to steady her racing heartbeat as the song continued to play in her head. "When the dog bites…"

Derek had a bad feeling as he squeezed her hand again. "Emily?" he called to her. "Emily, what's going on?"

"She stopped singing, and her arm pulled away from mine."

Her voice was entirely too soft and she sounded scared. Derek wanted to stop right then and there, but he knew she was strong enough. He knew she wanted to help those other girls, so he persisted. "Why did she stop? What happened?"

"I turned around and she was on the ground," Emily's voice grew a little as she spoke, regaining confidence in what she remembered. "He was there, crouched down beside her."

"Who was he?" Derek latched on to her account of the action. "What did he look like? What was he wearing? Did he say anything?"

Emily took a long, shaky breath. Her head shook from side to side, eyes still closed tightly. "I couldn't really see… it was dark, really dark by then. He stood out, though. His clothes weren't very dark."

Derek knew how important it was to keep her talking. He didn't want more than a fraction of a second between her words and his questions. "Good, that's good. Was he wearing jeans or nicer pants? How about his shoes, were they fancy or plain?"

"Loafers, I think. Tan." she responded first with shoes. "And khaki pants, darker shirt but still light. Pale blue, maybe."

"What about his face?"

She shuddered. "He had a mask on."

"Like a ski mask?"

"Yes, I couldn't see his face."

"What about his eyes? Could you see any skin through the holes of the mask?"

Emily opened her eyes and stared across the table to where Derek was seated. She looked him in the eye, her gaze deep and intense as she tried to funnel her memories through his eyes. She tried to use him as a conduit. Slowly Derek's eyes morphed and turned a different color. Emily knew it was all a product of her imagination making the memories manifest, but she flinched just a little when the color was revealed to her. "Green," she whispered. "His eyes were green." The other small details fell into place after that. "And his skin was light, Caucasian."

"Good," Derek was proud of the details he was getting out of her. "That's really good, what else can you…"

"I'm sorry," her voice cut him off. "I'm so sorry."

Derek felt goose bumps up and down his arms as she spoke. He was pretty sure she'd retreated further into the memory. "Why are you sorry, Emily?"

"Maybe we should stop," Hotch suggested. But, when he received a quick shake of the head from Derek, he turned silent again.

"Why are you sorry, Emily?" Derek tried to rebuild his connection with her. "What happened after the man was crouched down by Erica?"

Her eyes closed again as she slipped away to that night. "I'm sorry, daddy. I'm sorry, mom. I'm sorry we were so late. I'm sorry I left her," Emily's voice cracked and her eyes opened wide as if she'd just made a horrible revelation. "Oh, God. I left her. I _left_ her there with him. I ran away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, mom."

Derek wanted to go with Hotch, he wanted to stop it. It was killing him to hear her voice hit those heart wrenching octaves that normally only a frightened child could convey. Somehow he felt that she needed to continue, though. Even if it lead to nothing as far as their case was concerned. Derek had a feeling she needed to let it out. "You were only thirteen, Emily. You couldn't have helped her. You got away, you did the right thing," he tried to reassure her.

"I wanted to get help. I thought I could help her if I got my parents," she revealed.

"Yes, exactly," Derek agreed, glad that she'd taken a step away from her sorrow.

"Daddy got in the car to look for her. Mom called the police, but they didn't get there for a while; a half hour later maybe. She was gone by then. Daddy couldn't find her, he searched all night. Mom sat by the window, sure that Erica would find her way home. But she never came home."

His free hand balled into a fist beneath the table. Derek really wanted to hit something at that moment as he listened to her account of what happened. There was something wrong, though. Two things stood out very clearly for him. The first was the fact that she referred to her father as daddy, but the ambassador was either mom or mother. There wasn't the same closeness or affection in the terms she used for her mother, versus the ones for her father. The second fact was that she wasn't crying. She hadn't shed a tear since that first one early on. It didn't seem right.

"Now can we stop this?" Rossi asked.

Derek was still reluctant to end the conversation. "Can I ask you one more thing, Emily? Or would you like to stop?"

"I don't want to stop," she spoke in a stronger tone. "Ask me, ask me whatever you want," Emily insisted.

He took a deep breath as the question filled his head. He was following a gut feeling. "What was the message the Un-Sub left with your sister?" He watched as her eyes narrowed and her brow knitted in confusion. "Earlier today, when JJ gave her briefing, you said something about the Un-Sub leaving messages on the girls. You tried to play it off as some other case, but I think it was about your sister. What did he carve on your sister's back?"

Her eyes glazed over, as if she'd drifted to a place far distant from the plane's interior. Emily whispered something that none of them could hear.

"What was that?" Derek tried to get her to repeat it but she snapped out of the daze. "Emily?"

She spoke in a soft tone, but seemed more lucid than a second ago. "Five days after I last saw Erica, the police came to our penthouse in Boston. Two uniforms went into the living room with my parents. I watched from the stairs for a short time. My mother asked to see evidence."

"What evidence?"

"They told her that Erica was dead, but she wanted proof," Emily revealed. "They had a picture, but they didn't want to show her. She demanded it, though. She screamed at the one officer, so he finally showed her." She paused a moment and took a deep breath. "My mother lost it. The picture fell to the floor and she collapsed, sobbing. I'd never seen her like that before, or since. My father held her and the police officers helped daddy get her to the sofa. That's when I saw it."

"The picture?" Derek asked.

Emily nodded. "I snuck in while they were tending to my mother and I picked the picture up off the floor," she spoke clearly and with less emotion than earlier. "Erica looked peaceful, but dirty. Her hair was all dirty. She was lying on her stomach and her head was turned to one side, the hair pushed back off of her face. She looked like she was sleeping, but I knew she wasn't. I'd known she was dead before I ever saw that picture."

"Because of your mother's reaction?"

"No," she shook her head in response. "I felt her slip away. It was the day before I saw the picture."

"You mean like a twin thing?" Reid spoke for the first time since she'd started to recall the past. Emily nodded in response to his question. "Fascinating. I mean, I've heard of such things. I've just never actually had the opportunity to…" he looked over to see Derek frowning at him. "Sorry, you should continue what you were…" he waved a hand toward Emily.

Derek hoped he could get Emily's state of mind back. "What was the message he left?"

"I could see her back. The picture cut off at her waist, but there was no shirt on her back."

"What was the message?" Derek asked again.

She spoke in a more audible voice as she repeated what she'd said before. "You will never be safe."

xxx

A man in uniform strode toward the group as they entered the Quincy PD headquarters. He was tall and well groomed, in his late forties. JJ was out in front and reached him first. She grasped the man's outstretched hand. "You must be Sergeant Tully." He nodded. "I'm Jennifer Jareau, we talked on the phone earlier," she greeted before introducing the rest of the team. Tully motioned for another man to follow them as he led the team to a large conference room at the back of the station.

"It's not flashy here like the main Boston PD headquarters," he was apologetic in his tone. "Whatever you need, though, just ask." He introduced the man beside him who looked ten years younger and wore a suit. "This is our Boston PD liaison, detective Marsden. I guess they thought we could keep this all a bit quieter if the investigation was run from a smaller precinct, although, the Zanvil twins were found in our jurisdiction. Anyhow, Marsden is here to coordinate and help any way possible."

Hotch nodded and thanked Tully, grateful of his small town hospitality in the sprawl of Boston. He turned to his team and immediately got to work assigning tasks. "Reid I want you to stay put and start a map, the usually; victim's homes, schools, where they were last seen and where their bodies were found." Hotch looked to the others. "JJ, I'd like you to go with Rossi and talk to the Monroe and Colbert families. Morgan, you and I are going to the Zanvil's."

Emily stood there behind them all, noticing that Hotch was reluctant to even look her in the eye. "Sir?" she tried to prod him.

He swallowed. "Maybe you should sit this one out," Hotch suggested, having gone over the idea since they'd landed. "You could head back to DC."

"I'm not leaving," she snapped, almost daring him to make it an order.

The team leader had been playing it safe since his reinstatement. He was also trying to be more sensitive to his team's needs. "I just think that with what happened to your sister…"

"What happened to my sister was twenty-five years ago," she cut him off. "I'll probably never know who did that to her or why," Emily admitted, though it pained her to do so. "But I can help these girls. Isn't that why you were so interested in what I knew about my sister's picture? You appealed to me on behalf of those missing girls." She took a quick, settling breath. "Let me do my job."

Hotch nodded. "Stay with Reid and start on victimology. He can help when he's done with the map."

The team spilt up after that. And it was nearly a half hour later when Reid finally spoke for the first time, having been completely focused on his work. "I don't think you ever properly mourned for your sister," he stated.

Emily spun around from her spot at the white-board. "Excuse me?"

"Children take their cues from their parents," he made no excuses and delved right into his train of thought. "Parents are the first teachers. And, from what I can tell, your mother didn't mourn either. She closed her self off and turned to her work. I'm also guessing she and your father separated shortly after what happened to your sister." It wasn't really a question but he watched as Emily nodded. "And you stayed with her, so you emulated her. I've noticed that you use sarcasm and humor to interact with people. It's a way to joke around, pretend you're friends, even though you never let any one get very close. Even within this team, I'm willing to bet that you've revealed little bits of yourself to each of us, but never the whole story to one or more of us."

Prentiss finally released a puff of breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. "I really hate hanging out with profilers," she sighed. "No offense."

He shrugged. "None taken. But you just proved my point. Instead of a real answer, you hid yourself behind a defensive comment."

Several long minutes passed as they each turned back to their tasks. But Emily couldn't let it go. She didn't want to. She realized that he was right, as much as she didn't want to face that reality. "Spencer," she used his given name as a first step, realizing she didn't want to be like her mother. "Do you remember that time when you said you were trying to be more conversational, and I instantly shot you down?" Emily watched his head nod, every so slightly. "Well, maybe we could both take some lessons on that together." She flashed a rare smile his way. It wasn't the smile so much that was rare, but the genuine affection behind it.

Reid felt his cheeks flush a little as he stared down at his hands. He was holding three markers from his mapping efforts. The colored caps sparked something inside him. "What was your sister's favorite color?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Purple," Prentiss spoke as she wrote something out on the victimology board.

"What's your favorite color?" Reid asked a second question, purely as a means to try out their new conversational pact.

She looked down at her red shirt and then pointed at it. "I'm wearing it," Emily grinned.

"Right," he drew out the word. "I should have known."

"Red and blue, actually," she spoke up again. "Those two are both my favorites." Emily went back to the board and started another list of details. She wished she were out in the field, though. Hotch was keeping her reigned in and she didn't much care for it.

"It's interesting that you picked red and blue," Reid spoke up again. "Those are the two primary colors that, when mixed together, form the color purple. There have been studies done on color choice analysis, but I've never given them much credence. It can't just be a coincidence, though, that you like those two colors. There must be a psychological connection to your sister somehow. Not to mention the fact that red is the color most often associated with death. Red is the color of blood. Of course some claim that blood is actually blue before it exits the body. That's not true at all, though a lack of oxygen can cause blood to turn blue. That's why dead bodies turn blue."

Emily looked over her shoulder at him and shook her head. "And we were doing so well for about a minute," she gently ribbed him before turning back to the job.

xxx

Saturday ended quicker than they would have liked. All of the victim's families had pretty much reported the same thing; good kids with good grades. Sunday swiftly slipped away too as they followed one lead that didn't pan out. Hotch had headed back to the hotel early in the day, still needing to finish up his report to the FBI brass. They all knew he was doing his best to run everything by the book since getting his job back. The others had followed his lead in short order, funneling back to the hotel in a steady stream.

Emily had stayed the longest at the station. Now, as she sat on the plush carpeted floor of her hotel room, there were folders and papers strewn everywhere. The bed was covered and most of the floor too. A knock at the door disturbed her concentration. She disentangled herself from some pictures and managed to find a small hole to stand. After that she practically had to leap over the other folders to get free of the mess. Emily opened the door and found Derek smiling back at her.

"Hey, I thought you might need a drink…" he trailed off as he looked over her shoulder to see the papers littering her room. Then he noticed her sweat pants, t-shirt and very messy ponytail. "How long have you been at this?"

"Since I got back from the station," she revealed, steeping into the room and letting him in. Emily moved back to her spot in the center of the pile. She sat with her back against the foot of the bed. "I could definitely use a drink, or three."

Derek grinned brightly as he pulled two brown-glass soda bottles out from behind his back. "How about a root beer?"

Emily smiled. "Not exactly what I had in mind." But she was touched by the fact that he remembered the drink she and her sister had last shared. She leaned over and closed some files then tossed them onto a stack beside her. "Here, pull up a section of carpet," she patted the cleared spot of floor on her left.

He sat down and handed her one of the cold sodas. "Find anything new?" Derek glanced around at the pages.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Three of the girls are on the same softball team; Tracy Monroe, Stephanie Colbert and Melissa Zanvil. It's not school affiliated, so there are girls from all around the region who play on the team. They're coached by a…" Emily reached out and picked up a slip of paper that she'd made notes on. "Harlan Northrop."

"How did no one see that before?" Derek was surprised the connection hadn't been made.

She twisted off the top of her root beer and took a sip. "I think we've been too focused on the twin aspect of this case, trying to find things that the sisters did together. Reid pointed out that the victims were being found separated from one another. Occasionally twins do their own thing."

"Like your sister's singing and being in that play," he recalled. Derek smiled as he nudged her arm. "And you with your nose in a book all the time."

Emily frowned, though it was a half-hearted effort. "Not all the time," she protested. A thought came to her and she considered it for a moment before she stopped trying to over think things. Setting down her bottle of soda, Emily got up and walked across the room to where her bag was resting atop the dresser. She fished through it and pulled out her copy of the book, _Little Women_. Then she rejoined Derek on the floor. "Here, I want you to read the inscription."

He looked unsure as the book was placed in his lap. "You nearly ripped my head off before."

"I'm sorry about that," she apologized. "I want you to read it," Emily inclined her head toward the book, trying to encourage him. "It's okay this time."

Morgan faced her. "I'm the one who's sorry about what happened the other night. I never should have done that," he let her know. Seeing the forgiveness in her eyes, Derek sat his drink down and held the book in one hand. He flipped open the cover and reread the first words. "To Emily on her thirteenth birthday." His eyes scanned the second line as he spoke. "From her favorite older sister, Erica." Derek looked over at her. "Older sister?"

"She was born exactly two minutes before me, and she never let me forget it," Emily replied, feeling more inclined to talk about her sister. "She knew I loved the book and I'm pretty sure she roped daddy into finding this hardbound copy for me. She wanted me to have a special gift."

He liked hearing her open up and tried to keep the conversation going. "What special gift did you get her?"

"A charm bracelet. My mother paid for it, but I picked it out. It was silver and I found an opal charm for it; our birthstone." Emily smiled when she remembered the happy look on her sister's face upon opening the gift. "Maybe Reid was right. Maybe I never really mourned for her, at least not properly. It feels good to talk about her now." A second later her smile turned to tears as the vision of Erica's dirty hair and carved back came to mind.

"Hey," Derek put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "There's no statute of limitations on grief," he whispered in her ear.

Emily nodded against his shoulder. "Can I tell you something that I've never told anyone before?"

"You can tell me anything," he insisted.

"As a little girl, I only ever felt safe with my sister. Not even my dad's hugs or my mom's smile made me feel as loved as Erica. When we were together I didn't think anything bad could ever happen to me. We started living at the same time, we learned to crawl and walk and talk at the same time. She wasn't just my sister; she was a part of me. That's why it hurts so much, knowing that I left her when she needed me most. I haven't felt truly safe since the night I last saw her. I haven't felt whole. I'm afraid I don't know who I am without her."

Derek pursed his lips, afraid he might try to sooth her sorrow with unwanted sentiment. He desired to reassure her again that she'd done the right thing by leaving her sister to try and find help. But he didn't think she'd be any more receptive than she'd been on the plane the day before. All he could really do was sit there with her and let her cry; let her start to truly grieve for her sister's loss. She didn't need to be coddled, she needed to let go of her sister so she could move on with her life.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 3

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Their conference room at the Quincy PD was in a state similar to what Morgan had witnessed in Emily's hotel room the night before. There were dozens of files stacked upon the table and some littered the floor around the perimeter of the room. Derek spotted Emily upon entering and handed her the extra coffee that he was carrying. She smiled a silent thank you as they all listened to Hotch and detective Marsden engage in a somewhat heated discussion.

"No offense, Agent Hotchner, but your team has been here for almost three days. From what I can see, you're no closer to a profile than when you first arrived."

Hotch held his tongue, something he'd gotten good at over the years. "We know several things that we didn't before."

Marsden looked doubtful. "And what would that be?"

"We know the Un-Sub is a Caucasian male, probably mid to late thirties," Rossi jumped in to help.

"I've heard profilers claim that age is the hardest to predict," the detective retorted. "And why not female?" he challenged.

Reid stepped forward. "Female serial killers are extremely rare. When they do kill it's usually men who they target. A female mostly kills for revenge due to a wrong that was perpetrated against them, typically a rape or other abuse. It's very unlikely that a female would be killing teenaged girls. A female Un-Sub is also less likely to strangle a victim. They like a faster kill, something easier for them to control like a gun. None of the girls were shot," he concluded.

"So, the Un-Sub is male," Marsden agreed to that. "Anything else? Because I'm willing to bet at least half this city's population is male."

Nobody liked the defiant tone in the man's voice, but again Hotch remained calm. "Please tell Sergeant Tully that we'll have something for him later this morning. Thank you." With those words, Marsden was summarily dismissed.

When the detective stepped out of the room, everyone remained quiet for a moment. "Hotch, is that smart?" Morgan finally asked. "We all know this profile is still sketchy at best. I know Marsden is under pressure from high up, but he's not far off. We don't have enough to build a working profile yet."

"I told him we'd have something, not necessarily a working profile. I bought us time. Now, let's go over everything again," Hotch suggested.

The team started from the top, Rossi taking the lead. He picked up a file and opened it. "The Colbert's are pretty well-off. Father is an investor, mother works in real estate. They have no debt and the girls went to a private co-ed school."

Reid took over. "The Monroe family doesn't have a great deal of money but they get by. No major credit card debt. They pay their bills on time. Tina and Tracy attended a public school, so does their ten-year-old son. Father works for the city on a road crew, mother is a teacher."

"The Zanvil's have plenty of money and the girls go to private school," JJ joined in. "But they seem down to earth. In fact, all the families appear to be solid, two-parent households."

"With involved parents," Morgan noted. "Jack Colbert hosts a charity golf game each spring with proceeds going to a major inner-city education program. Abby Monroe is on the PTA, heads up an annual school bake sale and directs the Christmas pageant every year. Charlie Zanvil is the VP at a major publishing company and donates time and money to the young writers program at the school where his daughters attend."

Prentiss flipped through another file. "We didn't find any police records for parents or children, not even in the outer layers of relatives; grandparents, aunt's, uncles or cousins. And there have been no ransom notes or phone calls, suggesting that these families weren't targeted for money or blackmail."

"So the crimes are most likely random," Hotch concluded.

"Not necessarily," Morgan said as he nodded his head toward Prentiss.

"You have something?" Hotch looked to Emily.

The woman showed confidence in the way she sat and spoke. She didn't want Hotch throwing her off the case for any reason. "Three of the girls play on a softball team." Emily spread out the team pictures she'd found. "Tracy Monroe, Stephanie Colbert and Melissa Zanvil. Their coach is Harlan Northrop, but I haven't been able to get any information on him yet."

"Morgan, get Garcia on the phone," Hotch instructed, though Derek was already punching his speed dial button.

Garcia answered after a single ring. _"I thought you forgot about me,"_ she feigned being hurt.

Derek grinned. "Not likely," he quipped. "Sorry, we've been busy."

"_Busy finding out about Emily's sister?"_

He glanced over at Prentiss and tried to keep his voice low. "How did you know about that?"

"_JJ told me. She called last night while I was watching Henry, who is getting so big. I could just eat him with a spoon._"

Morgan chuckled. "I don't think JJ would appreciate that," he shook his head when JJ flashed a questioning look his way. "Garcia, I'm going to put you on speaker now, so behave," Derek warned in a joking manner.

"_When don't I behave? I mean, aside from those nights when I get to play dominatrix and you're my little…"_

"Hey, Garcia," Reid spoke up, intentionally derailing whatever she was about to say.

"_Oh, already on speaker… speak then, my pretties," _she responded without a hint of embarrassment.

Emily glanced at the team photos where she'd circled each of the girls with a red marker. "We need you to dig into the life of Harlan Northrop. He's the girl's softball coach for the junior high league, the Boston Bengals."

"_Like the group?"_

"Not _The Bangles_, Garcia," Emily replied. "Bengal. Their mascot is a tiger," she explained.

"_Right, give me a sec…" _her pause was punctuated by the clacking of a keyboard._ "Okay, it's your lucky day, folks. I've only got one hit on that name in Bean Town. The guy looks real squeaky, though. Thirty-eight years old. Wife Samantha is a stay at home mom. They've been married ten years and have three children, all girls. He's been in the area for five years and took over the coaching job at the Quincy Sport Club four years ago._

"Does he have any arrests, outstanding warrants or black spots on his work records?" Emily asked.

"_Like I said, squeaky," _Garcia returned, wishing there was something to tell.

Hotch jumped in. "Where did they move from?"

"_Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania."_

"Do you have a home and work address for him?" Morgan asked.

"_Sending it to you now."_

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch responded. "I want you to check on Northrop's activity in Pennsylvania and get back to us," he ordered. Morgan disconnected the call after Garcia had signaled her acknowledgement of Hotch's directive. "JJ, I'd like you to prepare a press-release stating the bare minimal about this case. The rest of us will keep going over this profile and..."

He was cut off by Reid. "Guys, take a look at this," the young man addressed the team as he stood by the map where he'd been building a geographical profile. He pointed to a blue pin. "The address Garcia just sent us for Northrop's house is about dead center in relation to all the other home and school locations."

Hotch turned to Derek. "Morgan, I want you to check this Northrop guy out," there was a miniscule pause before he added, "Take Prentiss with you."

That was all Emily needed to hear. She was out of her seat and trailing Morgan without a second thought.

xxx

The Northrop home was a modest, two-story house in a pleasant area of the city. It was clearly not Boston's finest, but the well kept houses revealed a certain degree of pride in their neighborhood. Samantha Northrop answered the front door with a toddler on her hip. The woman's dark hair was still wet from a shower and she was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. Clearly she'd not been expecting visitors. Derek made the introductions and the woman allowed them inside.

"Harlan already left for work," Samantha told them as she sat the toddler down in front of some toys.

Emily stood beside a table in the living room lined with family photos. "Your girls are lovely," she commented.

Samantha smiled proudly as she pointed to one picture with all three of her daughters. "Anna is eight already, she's growing up so fast. Emma is five and in an all day kindergarten this year. And Lily just turned two last month." She looked to Morgan and Prentiss. "Is my husband in some kind of trouble?" she finally asked, recalling what they'd said to get in the door; that two girls on his team had been killed, and another kidnapped.

"We're just here to gather information," Emily tried to keep the woman at ease.

Morgan asked the first question. "What can you tell us about your husband?"

"He works hard," Samantha replied.

"Meaning?" Derek pressed, finding her response a little odd. Most wives started with something along the lines of, good husband and father.

They both noticed how the wife's jaw twitched a little as she struggled to form an answer. She also played with the hem of her shirt. "Other than his coaching duties he works as a personal trainer at the club. The members there have varying schedules and some days Harlan works really late. He has a sofa that he sleeps on in his office."

Derek could see she was not happy that her husband stayed out late. "Are there nights he doesn't come home at all?"

Samantha Northrop swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yes."

"Does he spend time with you and the girls when he's off?" Emily inquired.

"As much as he can," the woman grew defensive, crossing her arms over her chest. "Work keeps him real busy, though. There's a lot of pressure on him to win. He was hired to replace a coach who wasn't getting results. He takes his job very seriously. Winning is important to Harlan."

Morgan felt his chest tighten a little. "Does that pressure at work ever make him angry?" he asked. "Does he take his stress out at home? Has he ever hit you?"

"No," Samantha shook her head adamantly. "Harlan isn't like that. We fight occasionally, but he'd never hurt me like that, or the girls. He's a good man."

xxx

"If I had a dollar for every time an Un-Sub's wife, mother or daughter said he was a good man..." Derek trailed off, shaking his head as he maneuvered the large, black SUV through the city. The questioning of Northrop's wife had ended on that ringing endorsement. Samantha had clammed up after that and Lily had done her part as well, knocking her head against the bookshelf. The child's crying had sufficiently ended Samantha's focus on answering their questions.

Emily sighed. "Sometimes they want to believe it so bad they don't always see the bigger picture," she replied.

They arrived at the Quincy Sport Club twenty minutes after leaving Northrop's house. The place was typical of most country clubs; green lawns, maintained buildings, a manicured golf course and a parking lot full of late model vehicles. Not to mention the bevy of well-dressed men and women carrying duffle bags, appearing to have just stepped out of a magazine advertisement.

The woman at the front desk told them where to find Northrop's office and the man was there when they arrived, looking as if he'd been expecting them. Derek had the distinct feeling the receptionist had tipped Harlan off. "I'm not sure what I can tell you," the man said as he sat back in his chair. The office was small but nicely furnished with plush carpet, comfy leather chairs and a mahogany desk.

"Do you like coaching girls?" Emily asked as she walked along the south wall of his office. It was lined with placards touting his accomplishments.

He nodded. "Yes. I've come to realize that girls are much more receptive to learning. I coached boys for about a year, but they tend to do their own thing. Girls are much easier to mold however you like." Harlan's persona seemed incongruous with the life they'd seen at his house. Samantha was salt of the earth. Harlan appeared uppity.

"You have three daughters, right?" Derek asked, though he didn't wait for the man to answer. "Do you find that they're easy to mold?"

Harlan remained cool-headed. "What are you getting at?" his eyes moved from Derek to Emily. He then grinned smugly as he leaned forward and rested his arms against the desk. "Oh, I see, the male coach is a suspect. How original of you."

Derek didn't like the man's tone at all, or his arrogant attitude. "You ever take these girls on special trips, or invite them home to hang out with you?"

"That would be rather unprofessional of me, wouldn't it?" the man countered.

"Have you?" Derek persisted, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"Morgan," Emily gently warned him to stand down. "Mr. Northrop, anything you're able to tell us about these girls would be a big help. You're not on trial," she assured him.

The man's face turned to something of a caring nature. "All I can tell you is that those three girls were some of my best players. They were good kids. It has been a blow to the team and I honestly hope you catch the bastard responsible for all of this."

They were sincere words, which only served to throw Derek and Emily. The two thanked him for his time and exited the office, but not before Derek took one last look around the space. Out in the hallway, he turned to Emily. "Did you see a sofa in there? I didn't, but his wife seems to think one exists, or at least that's what she's been told. I'd wager that she has never seen that man's office."

Prentiss hadn't seen a sofa either, but she was more concerned about Derek's behavior. "Do you mind telling me what happened back there? You nearly convicted him on the spot."

"I know what can happen when a coach thinks he's helping a young athlete succeed," Morgan growled as they moved through the club.

Emily knew enough about what had happed to him as a kid to understand his mistrust of Northrop. "Derek, you can't make this personal."

He stopped walking and faced her. "Oh, and I suppose this case isn't personal for you? Come on, Prentiss. Who are you trying to kid?"

Silence reigned for a moment and they both felt sorry about the accusation in their voices. The matter was dropped as they spent several hours talking to people at the club, everyone from patrons down to laundry room workers. At three that afternoon, after hearing nothing but praise for Northrop, they made their way to the softball field and sat up in the bleachers to observe the man's coaching.

What they witnessed was a coach teaching girls the art of softball. Nothing more. Two hours later, there'd been no evidence of anything amiss. He'd barely touched the girls, even while showing them the proper way to swing a bat. Derek and Emily knew the man had spotted them watching. It was possible he'd just been on his best behavior, so they talked to a few of the girls after practice. All of them had only good things to say about their coach.

Emily slid into the passenger's seat when they returned to the vehicle. "Maybe this cocky thing is all an act for work," she proposed. "He does live in a household with four females. Maybe this is the only time he gets to exert his masculinity?"

"Maybe," Morgan wasn't sold on that theory. He flipped his phone open and dialed Hotch. They had a very brief conversation before Derek disconnected. "He says it's up to us. We can stay on Northrop if we want."

She nodded. "I think we should a little longer."

Morgan agreed and they shadowed the man, following him out of the club's parking lot that evening. The first stop Harlan made was to a grocery store. After a half hour, the man came out carrying two brown paper bags. He dropped one of them while trying to stow them in his trunk. It ripped and caused some of his items to spill out onto the ground. Emily and Derek watched as he chased after the escaped apples and a plastic jug of orange juice. It was quite a contrast to the picture of smugness they'd witnessed at his office.

"This is getting us nowhere fast," Emily sighed, starting to put more stock in her idea about him showing off at work. "The guy went into a grocery store and bought groceries. Maybe if we follow him home we might catch him doing something truly horrible, like cooking dinner for his family."

Derek couldn't help smile a little. "You think this is a waste?" He was mostly following her lead since she'd been the one to pick the guy out for suspicion.

"No, there's definitely something hinky about this guy," she admitted.

"I agree. My gut's telling me to stick with it," Morgan revealed.

"Then let's stick with it," she nodded.

xxx

Derek brought the SUV to a stop several houses down from where Harlan Northrop had pulled into a driveway. The neighborhood was dark and quiet. The only real problem they could see was that it wasn't the same neighborhood or house where they'd visited Samantha Northrop that morning. They watched him exit his vehicle and remove the groceries. Then he walked to the front door, fumbled with some keys and unlocked the house. He disappeared inside a second later.

"Do you think he could have Jessica and Melissa in there with him?" Emily asked.

"And he's what, feeding them well before he kills them?" Derek didn't think that was likely, but something sure wasn't right. He pulled his phone out, dialed Garcia and then hit speaker.

"_Ask and I shall consider your requests,"_ Garcia never lacked flare when answering a call.

Derek smiled to hear her greeting. "Hey, baby girl. I've got Emily on with me."

"_Emily, hi,"_ the flamboyant woman's voice softened_. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your sister. JJ told me, but don't be mad at her. She didn't have much choice considering I was holding her son hostage at the time,"_ Garcia joked, hoping to lighten the moment.

"Thank you, Garcia," Emily replied.

Garcia knew well enough not to push the woman on the subject. _"So, what can I do for my two favorite love birds?"_

Morgan quickly hid his surprise over her newest choice of nicknames. "We need you to find out what you can on this address, 5237 S. Alder St."

"_Okay, my lovelies. But I'm afraid I can't get on this just yet. Hotch has got me jumping through hoops here sussing out other leads. Apparently the Boston PD is having a hissy fit over the press-release he had JJ give to the media this afternoon. It's not pretty and boss-man needs some answers, fast. Sorry."_

"No worries, Penelope," Derek replied. "Just as soon as you can. Thanks."

"_Sayonara, mes amis,"_ Garcia disconnected.

Both of them stared at the house down the road, knowing they had no probable cause to storm in there and search the place. "I tried to tell Hotch it was premature to take any sort of action," Morgan sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Now the natives are restless." He hated sitting around feeling useless.

"I think Hotch knew it was rash," Emily replied. "He wants to lure this Un-Sub out of hiding. The guy's been way too quiet, and the quiet ones are the most dangerous." She glanced over at him. "Kind of tough, though, not being the one in charge any more?"

Derek shrugged. "Not really."

"Don't you miss it at all?"

He turned his head and looked her in the eye. "I did it for Hotch. I always planned to step down."

"Maybe so, but you were good at it," Emily let him know. "You should seriously considering applying for your own team to head up."

"Trying to get rid of me, Prentiss?"

Emily smiled but shook her head. "No, I would miss you," she honestly told him.

Morgan was touched by her words. "I'd miss you too."

She looked away and toward the house they were keeping an eye on. "Derek, about last night, I'm sorry for crying on your shoulder like that. It was inappropriate."

"It's not a big deal." He reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I still feel bad for asking you about that picture in the first place. When Garcia told me that you'd gone to the same school at the same time, I thought maybe you would recognize her. At the very most I figured you might have been friends. If I'd known she was your sister, I…"

"You had no way of knowing, Derek. Please don't feel guilty about that." Emily lowered her gaze, staring at her lap. "Still, we work together and I shouldn't have broken down like that in front of you."

"Emily, you know I care about you as more than just a co-worker, right?" Derek asked. "I hope you know that. Friends lend their shoulders. Friends are there for one another, always."

She smiled again. "My friend Matthew once held my hand during one of the hardest things I'd been through and I thanked him for being there for me. He said, always. You said the same thing to me after we caught the priest who killed Matthew. You supported me even though you weren't sure what was going on. It's been a long time since I've had a friend like that."

Derek was glad to be that for her. He wanted to hear more about her friend and her past, but it didn't seem like the right time. "We might be here a while, know any good songs?"

"I don't sing well, remember?"

"Right," he nodded slowly as he glanced out the windshield to check the house. A light shown through the front window, but the curtains were drawn and nothing could be seen inside. "I hear you have a birthday coming up this Thursday," Derek ended the silence that had blanketed the SUV. "Actually, Garcia reminded me of the exact day, but I knew it was soon."

She wrung her hands. "Let me save you the trouble of having to remember it again, I don't celebrate birthdays," Emily replied.

He wasn't so easily dismissed by her curt words. "Sure you do. JJ organized that outing for Will's birthday just two weeks ago, and we all went for drinks to celebrate Rossi's not too long before that," he reminded her.

"I meant I don't celebrate _my_ birthdays," she was slightly less abrupt about it, but still clearly not interested in the topic.

But Derek kept the conversation going. "That's a shame. Birthdays are a good excuse to pig-out on chocolate cake. And I happen to know you like chocolate cake." When he saw her lips curl a little at the mention of chocolate, he dove through the opening. "It's because of Erica that you don't like birthdays?"

Emily nodded, finding it a little bit easier to talk about. "The last birthday I celebrated was with my sister. None of the others stand out in memory," she admitted.

Derek wasn't certain on the particulars yet, but he vowed to make Thursday a good day for her.

xxx

"Emily?"

She heard a voice calling to her that sounded like it was being filtered through mud. Her head was foggy and it was dark. Slowly, she tried to free her eyelids from the heavy weights keeping them closed. Light flooded her vision and it felt warm against her cheeks. As she tried to focus her eyes, Emily felt someone take her hands and wrap them around something warm. Then she caught a whiff of strongly brewed coffee. Finally she remembered where she was. Emily inhaled the coffee sent again and turned to Derek. "I love you."

He knew it was just the coffee talking, but Derek liked hearing those words of hers aimed at him. "You fell asleep."

"I guessed as much," Emily sat up straighter. "How long?" She noticed the sun had already risen.

Derek looked at his watch. "It's seven-thirty now, so about four hours. You were really out, too. I went through the drive-up window at the coffee place and you never stirred."

"Four hours?" The coffee cup was pressed against her bottom lip as she blew on it. "Why did you let me sleep that long? Why did you leave the house unwatched?"

"The house has been still all night. And you looked like you needed the rest," Morgan replied. A second later he regretted his wording. "Not that you look… I mean, you just seemed tired last night and…" he took a breath. "Have you been sleeping much since we took this case?"

She shrugged indifferently. "Enough." Emily took a sip of coffee.

"Meaning?" he pressed.

"A few hours every night," she answered. When he was silent for a moment, Emily caved a little further. "An hour or two at a time, three at the most," she admitted. "I know what you're going to say, but I'll sleep better when this case is over."

He turned a stern eye her way. "Damn right you will, because I'll be making sure Hotch gives you at least a week off after we nail this guy."

Emily frowned and turned away from him. "Please don't do that. I don't need…" she trailed off, catching a glimpse of movement through the windshield. "Derek, look," she pointed to the house Northrop had entered the night before.

They watched as Harlan walked through the door. He looked clean shaven and was wearing a new outfit. When he was half-way across the front lawn the door to the house burst open and a young boy bolted toward Northrop. Harlan bent down and scooped the child up into his arms. He kissed the boy on the forehead. A woman joined them and Harlan kissed the dark-haired woman, then passed the boy off to her.

"This just got really…"

"Complicated," Derek finished.

Emily sat her coffee in the cup holder and reached for the door handle. She was stopped by Derek. "What? I want to confront this creep."

"Not yet," Derek started the SUV's engine as they watched the woman and boy go back into the house. Harlan made it to his car and pulled out of the driveway. Derek followed at a distance. "I didn't want to go after him with the others there," he explained his reasoning.

She kept her feelings on the matter under wraps as they trailed Northrop back to the club. Derek pulled up beside the guy and they jumped out of their vehicle to ambush Northrop. Derek stood in front of him, blocking passage to the building. "That parking spot is for employees only," Harlan pointed out, motioning to their SUV.

"Too bad your spot doesn't say, for upstanding citizens only," Emily jabbed.

Harlan chuckled. "Don't you two have something better to do than harass innocent people?" he was all machismo again on his work turf.

"We'd like you to come in and answer some more questions for us," Morgan let him know.

"Are you going to arrest me?"

Emily shook her head. "No, it would be strictly voluntary."

Northrop considered the situation. "If I answer all your questions and am cleared to go, will you leave me alone?"

"Sure," Derek agreed.

"And you won't tell Samantha or Kathy about any of what you saw?"

Derek and Emily realized that he knew they'd been watching him at the house. "Deal," Emily agreed to his terms, though it turned her stomach to do so.

xxx

Hotch watched Emily and Derek as they grilled the man in the interrogation room. He listened to Harlan Northrop answer everything with an alibi and a seemingly strong story. The best lead they had at the moment was slipping through their fingers. Reid interrupted his vigil. "Garcia has information on Northrop," he relayed.

"Get Emily and Derek," Hotch order. "I want us all to hear what she has to say."

Several minutes later they were gathered in the conference room. _"Okay boys and girls, buckle up because this ride's gonna get bumpy,"_ Garcia warned. _"We start with Harlan Northrop, whom you've already had the pleasure of meeting. I researched his time in Pennsylvania and everything seems normal there. He had a coaching job and co-workers had nice things to say. However, I decided to do a deeper search and found a second Pennsylvania driver's license that matched his picture. It was issued to Harold North. Harold North is also a married man, wife is Kathy and they have one son named Brandon. Wife and son recently moved to Boston."_

"This guy is legally married to two women?" Derek asked. He'd been thinking the other woman was simply a mistress of some sort.

"_Not exactly legally, considering polygamy isn't legal. But according to his identities, yes,"_ Garcia explained. _"But we're just getting started."_

Emily sighed. "Tell us everything."

Garcia did as asked. _"I also pulled up a license issued in Phoenix, Arizona to a Harlan North. This incarnation of Mr. Polygamy seems to be the original because I have a birth certificate and school records. Harlan North was bequeathed one and a half million dollars after the death of his parents. He was eighteen at the time, but decided he didn't want to pay taxes on this gift so he created new identities and spread his money around. His first marriage is to a Pamela North who still resides in Phoenix with their two children, Alice and Jason North."_

"This guy is starting to make me look good," Rossi said under his breath.

"_Those two offspring are now eighteen and seventeen. Also, he is still married to Pamela, though they seem to have separated several years ago._" Garcia took a breath. _"He moved to Tacoma, Washington sixteen years ago, where he met and married wife number two. Sheila Northrop married Harold Northrop thinking he was just a nice guy who coached a girl's volleyball team. They had one child together, Stephan."_

"Is that all?" Hotch asked.

"_Isn't that enough?"_ Garcia replied. _"Basically, yes, aside from the fact that he's got a warrant out for his arrest in Phoenix due to his tax evasion the last twenty years."_

"Good work, Garcia," Derek thanked her.

"_Funny, I don't feel so good,"_ the woman replied. _"I'm going to go scrub off the cyber cooties. Call me when you have some more creepy lives for me to dig through."_

The line went dead and Hotch turned to Reid, who was closest to the door. "Tell Sergeant Tully to call the Phoenix authorities and explain about this Northrop guy, or whatever his real name is. He can be their problem now."

Reid left the room as Emily faced Hotch. "That's it? He goes free?" she asked.

Hotch shook his head. "I doubt the Phoenix police or the IRS will be letting him go free any time soon. He's obviously a sick man, but I don't believe he had anything to do with the murders of these girls. He's not our Un-Sub."

She wanted to protest, but it was pretty clear that Hotch was right. Mr. Polygamy wasn't the man they were after, as much as she wanted him to be. Emily fled, needing some fresh air after spending more than half the day in a stuffy interrogation room. She exited the precinct and took a right then a second right, entering the side alley next to the police station. Emily sank against the brick wall, knowing Derek had followed her out.

"We just wasted two days on this guy. Two days!"

Derek settled against the wall beside her. "It wasn't a waste, Emily" he replied. "We had to investigate that possibility, and we eliminated a suspect. We still have time."

Emily closed her eyes for a moment. "What time, Derek? We've all heard Reid rattle off the statistics a hundred times or more. Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours. It's been four days. They're already dead."

"Not necessarily. This guys MO so far has been to take new victims on Fridays, but the others are never found until that same Friday. That gives us two more days."

She opened her eyes. "What if he's decided to escalate this time? What if he's already killed them? What if we're too late?"

Morgan sighed. "Maybe Hotch was right and you should have sat this one out."

"Oh, fuck off!" She exploded at him and pushed away from the wall.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Hey!" Derek got in her face, holding her arms. "If yelling at me makes you feel better, fine. But you need to focus on this case and give it your all, the way I know you can, or take a walk."

Emily jerked out of his hold and ran a hand through her hair, clenching clumps of it at the base of her skull. Then she let go and screamed into the fading light of day. Her hands shot out and she slapped the brick wall with her palms while screaming again. It took her several minutes before she could form coherent words. "They spent one year with the case open, but I doubt they did much past a few months with no leads." She dropped her head between her arms, palms still pressed against the cool brick.

Derek listened, knowing she was talking about her sister's case. "Sometimes there's just nothing to go on."

She turned around and leaned against the wall. "My mother packed away her stuff after that year was up. I managed to rescue a few things, but she gave most of it away to charity. My mother paid off the police chief and I don't know how many other city officials to strike Erica's name from the case. She did the same thing with school and medical records. She made my sister vanish. And when all the paperwork was done, she did a damn fine job of striking Erica from her memory too. I wasn't even allowed to speak her name."

"I can't even imagine what that must have been like for you," he shook his head, thinking about his sisters.

"But the worst part," Emily took a deep breath. She let it out slowly. "After a while, I packed her away too. I had the book and some other small reminders, but I learned not to say anything. I learned to keep it a secret. I was the perfect little model of my mother."

"No, you are nothing like your mother," Derek insisted. "Your mother may be good at giving up, but you're not. You never forgot your sister, Emily. In fact, I'm willing to bet that every victim photo you look at and every crime scene you visit; it's your sister's face that you see. I know, because I always see that boy; the one whose name I'll never know. I'm so sorry you had to lose Erica, but your sister's death made you a great profiler. You fight for her every day that you go out and do your job. You don't give up because you don't want other families to have to live with that feeling of never knowing. Don't give up now, Emily. Don't let those families down."

She reached out to squeeze his forearm. "Derek Morgan, you are one of the most stubborn people I've ever known. And I can't believe I yelled at you like that. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I'm kind of glad you did. I think you've needed to blow off that steam for a long time now. As far as the stubborn thing, you know what they say; it takes one to know one." Derek pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. "So, what do you say," he whispered in her ear. "Do we have a serial killer to catch?"

Emily felt his warm breath on her neck and pulled out of the embrace, realizing she'd let herself get close again. She didn't mind so much this time as she nodded. "Yes we do."

* * *

**To be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 4

By N. J. Borba

* * *

On Wednesday morning the BAU team attended Stephanie and Stacey Colbert's funeral, hoping that their Un-Sub would show up. They'd tried the tactic before, looking for anyone who seemed out of place. Emily hated every minute of intruding on a family's private time of mourning. She knew in her head that it was the right thing to do in order to catch the killer. But telling that to her heart was another story. She'd been in their shoes once.

Derek and Emily circled the graveside ceremony as Hotch and JJ stayed close to the family. Reid and Rossi glanced inside car windows on the off chance that their Un-Sub was street-side looking on from the safety of his vehicle. But the service ended with nothing to follow up on, and the team regrettably retreated to the Quincy PD station. They all felt like they were letting down the families as they continued to come up short.

Later that afternoon, though, they discovered three promising leads. The first was a city bus driver on a route that all six girls had been known to take. Reid and JJ went to question the man at his home. After a brief interview and search, they'd discovered pictures of the girls that he'd taken from a hidden camera mounted in his bus. They'd also found hundreds of other pictures, people of all races, ages and gender. Determining that he wasn't their Un-Sub, they turned him over to the bus company who fired him on the spot.

The second lead sent Rossi and Hotch to investigate a candy store owner at the local mall. The six girls had been spotted there on several occasions, and the owner had been known to hand them special treats. As they pursued the matter, the owner revealed to them that he had twin granddaughters about their age who lived in Italy with their mother. He never got to see them and claimed he'd only tried to be nice to the girls in his store because he would have wished the same treatment for his grandchildren. They let him go.

Their biggest break led Morgan and Prentiss to discover that detective Marsden had been intentionally keeping pertinent information out of the BAU's hands. He'd been holding back a series of crime scene photos and personal effects. After questioning Marsden, they came to the conclusion that he'd been hoping to solve the case on his own and win himself a nice promotion. Sergeant Tully sent Marsden back to Boston PD and handed over the evidence.

Thursday morning found them back in the conference room pouring over the new evidence. Reid pasted up three different boards with the new photos; one board for each set of twins. He started at the pictures all morning, trying to find some detail that had been missing from the other photos. Emily sat with her elbows atop the rectangular table as she stared at the back of Reid's head, watching his intent vigil. "He took all the victims on a Friday," Emily said. "The bodies were found on a Friday. What do Friday's represent?"

"End of the work week," JJ offered. "For me, weekends mean spending time with Will and Henry." She was missing them both a great deal.

"Relaxation and recreation," Rossi added.

Hotch frowned. "You think this could be recreation for our Un-Sub?"

"No," Derek answered. "There's more to it than that. The guy has a distinct pattern, there's purpose behind his actions. It's not just for fun."

Emily sat back in her chair. "I agree. Maybe something happened to him on a weekend that is tied to all of this," she suggested.

"Which we could figure out if we at least had a name," Rossi sighed. "Or a career, or a face, or any kind of physical evidence. This guy has left us nothing, no fingerprints, no hair, not a single morsel of DNA. Not even a bite on the story we leaked to the press."

Reid faced the group. "There's also the separation issue, which I still haven't been able to figure out. But it certainly seems important to the Un-Sub. Tracy Monroe was found beside a water fountain in one park. Her sister was near a drinking fountain in another park across the city," he went over the crime scenes in his head. "Stephanie and Stacey were discovered in the same park, but separate."

"Were there any water features in the park where the Colbert girls were found?" Hotch asked.

"Yes," JJ answered, moving toward the appropriate board. "When Reid and I went to the site I noticed a stream that runs the length of the park," she used a finger to trace along the barely visible water element in the photos. "It has a bend, which caused it to flow past both areas where the girls were found."

Derek looked around the room. "So, he likes water?"

"The water connection is intriguing," Reid commented, not having noticed it before. "I still think the separation element is a bigger key to the puzzle."

"Maybe he only wanted one of them," Rossi piped in again.

Hotch looked to the man. "Meaning?"

"I don't know," Dave shrugged. "I was just throwing out a thought."

"Roll with it a little longer," Hotch suggested.

Rossi got up and walked around the table as he spoke. "We know this is not about money, because there are no ransom notes or phone calls. It's not sexual, because none of the girls were assaulted in that manner. None were stabbed either; a stand-in for the sex act. It could be personal. Maybe he came into contact with them at some point. It could have been a very brief encounter, but maybe one of them was real friendly and the other was quieter. Somehow he felt slighted?"

Derek questioned the theory. "If he only wants one of them, why does he take both?"

"Easiest answer, he can't get them alone," Emily supposed. "Erica and I went almost everywhere together. The Monroe's were at a party together. Colbert's and Zanvil's were walking home from school together. Harlan Northrop did have means of taking just one of the girls when they were at practice."

"Harlan Northrop is no longer a suspect," Hotch reminded her.

"And our Un-Sub might not have known about them being on the team," JJ added. "If he's taking a set of girls every week, he probably doesn't have time to watch them very long."

"So, if he only wants one of them, why does he kill both?" Derek posed another question. "Even if he has to take them both, couldn't he drop one off somewhere; let her go?"

Emily head shook. "It's too much of a risk that the second girl has already seen him, unless he was wearing a disguise," she pointed out. "And we don't have any reports of that."

Hotch took a deep breath. "This profile still has far too many holes."

"I don't think he wanted either one of them," Reid interrupted their theorizing. "Take a look at this," he beckoned the group over to the board where the Colbert girl's pictures were arrayed. Hotch was the first to step forward. Rossi, Derek and Emily crowded in behind him while JJ stayed at the table.

"What is it?" Hotch asked.

Reid pointed to one picture. "Stephanie was hit in the left temple. The blood flowed down the side of her head and neck, pooling around her shoulder," he explained, following the trail of blood with his finger as he spoke. "Now look at this," he pointed out the gold necklace around the girl's neck. "The blood seems to flow behind the chain."

"None of these necklaces have blood on them," JJ announced, holding up the evidence bags.

"Marsden had those, he could have cleaned them," Rossi suggested.

Derek took one of the bags and glanced at it. "I doubt it. Marsden wanted to solve this case on his own, but he wouldn't tamper with evidence. He needed these."

"Look at Tracy Monroe," Reid went on, walking to another board and pointing out a picture of the girl's bruised neck that was also adorned with a gold necklace. "Tracy was strangled, but in the coroner's photos," he moved his finger to another picture. "They removed the necklace yet there are no marks from a chain. If the Un-Sub strangled her with a necklace on, there would have been indication of that on her skin. The chain would have broken through flesh or at least left a distinct mark, but there's nothing to indicate that."

Hotch nodded, following what Reid was saying. "You think he put these necklaces on them postmortem?"

"I do," Reid confirmed as he rummaged through a file. "Here's a list of what the girls were wearing at the time they disappeared, including jewelry. There's no mention of necklaces."

JJ grabbed another file. "Monroe and Zanvil girls were last seen at school. Zanvil's private school has uniforms and doesn't allow jewelry. Tina and Tracy went to public school where the rules aren't as strict. They can only wear solid color clothing, no prints. No jewelry restrictions, though, which would explain why Tracy Monroe got away with wearing multiple earrings. However, Mrs. Monroe stated that she didn't allow the girls to wear anything other than earrings to school. There have been a lot of burglaries at that junior high."

"Remember when the worst thing you had to worry about at school was cafeteria food or being stuffed in a locker?" Rossi quipped. "Now kids carry guns to school."

Reid could sympathize about being stuffed in a locker. "I think Marsden noticed this too, which is why he hid these specific pictures from us," he went on. "But his notes don't reveal anything conclusive about what he thought it might mean."

"It's clearly a sign of remorse," Derek figured.

"I don't think so," the young genius challenged. "The way the bodies were discarded shows that he didn't care about the girls. I think the necklaces are a way for him to make them into something they aren't, the one he's really after."

"We've seen that behavior before," Rossi noted. "But it's still a small part of the puzzle. We need who and why."

"Actually," Reid settled his gaze on someone in the room. "I think the biggest piece of this puzzle has been right under out noses all along." He stepped toward Emily and then reached out; grasping the charm at the end of the necklace she was wearing. Reid stared at the blue and white Yale logo and read the Latin words, "Lux et Veritas. Light and truth." He gently dropped the charm. "I've seen you wear that one before. You wear a lot of necklaces."

Emily's eyes were narrow slits as she glared at him. "Yes," she answered. "I probably wear earrings more often."

"Earrings are fairly ubiquitous across the female jewelry spectrum, but you wear your true femininity around your neck," he observed, launching into a ramble. "Historically, rings were first worn by noblemen. The wedding ring tradition actually started due to a king giving his betrothed a ring as a means of marking his property. Bracelets were first thought to be worn as a form of protection. As far back as the Neanderthal days they wore bracelets made of bone and animal teeth to defend themselves against an enemy."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Derek asked.

Reid nodded. "There's a lot of theory and history about jewelry. I read a study once claiming that a necklace is a true sign of the heart. The basic theory being that, due to the fact that it's worn against the chest, it's close to the heart. It's thought that a person who likes necklaces is generally a more sensitive, caring person."

"What are you getting at?" Emily echoed Derek's question.

With brave conviction, Reid asked, "Were you wearing a necklace the night your sister was attacked?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Was your sister?" Reid continued.

"No," Emily replied, growing leery of his questions. "She liked bracelets over necklaces. The night she was attacked, Erica was wearing the bracelet I gave her for our birthday. I guess it didn't do a very good job of protecting her, though," Emily mocked. "Erica only ever owned one necklace. Our father bought us both the same one for our first communion in the second grade." Her face contorted as she thought about those necklaces.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked.

Emily felt sick to her stomach. "The necklace's he bought us were gold chains with a small cross on them."

Everyone returned to the table where JJ had laid out the four necklaces. They were all gold with varying sizes and shapes of crosses. Reid took a seat beside Emily. "Tell me again about the picture you saw of Erica, the one the police showed your mother. You said her head was turned and that her hair had been pushed away from her face. You must've had a good look at her neck. Was she wearing a necklace in that picture?" he asked.

She closed her eyes and the memory was instantaneous. "Yes."

"Did it have a gold cross on it?" Derek asked.

Her head nodded. "It wasn't hers, though." Emily reopened her eyes. She retreated again. "I ran up to our room that night and curled up on Erica's bed. Hours later I went to the dresser where we kept our jewelry boxes. I wanted something of hers to keep close. I felt guilty, though, thinking she'd be mad if I took anything. I took her necklace because I knew she didn't like to wear it. I didn't think she'd miss it." Emily realized now how silly that reasoning had been. "The one I wear now, it's always hers."

Rossi and Hotch exchanged a look of understanding. Hotch nodded for Dave to be the one to proceed. "Emily, I think it's likely that this guy knew you and your sister on some sort of personal level. Can you think of anyone who might have done this?"

"Someone who killed my sister, but was really after me?" Emily looked at him like he was crazy. She turned to Hotch. "Are we really entertaining the idea that our Un-Sub is the same guy who killed my sister?"

"We are," he confirmed.

Dave recalled something of significance. "What about the guy who got you…" Rossi stopped short, seeing the dangerous look in her eyes warning him not to go there.

"No," Emily shook her head. "It wasn't him. I didn't even know him back then."

The others did their best not to inquire further on the odd exchange between Emily and Rossi. "You mentioned that Erica liked to talk to the boys at the school across from yours," Reid remembered. "Did any of those boys ever approach you? Maybe you made one angry or ignored them?"

A memory jumped into her thoughts. "Douglas Fowler. He tried to kiss every girl in our class," Emily revealed. "He was a total jerk, but Erica thought he was cute."

"Did Erica kiss him?" Derek asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Douglas was famous for getting girls to follow him into an ally between our school and the gymnasium. Erica told me one day that she was going to meet him there after school. I tried to stop her, but when that didn't work I went with her. The kiss was pretty immature; it lasted all of two seconds, maybe. But then he turned his head really quick and tried to kiss me too."

Derek smiled. "What did you do?"

"I punched him in the stomach," Emily informed them.

Rossi made no attempt to hide his laughter. "I'm guessing he was upset."

She nodded. "His friends had to help him up and Douglas tried to hit me back, but Erica got between us and he backed off. After that we saw him a few times across from our school. He was always glaring at me. Doug was just a kid, though. I don't think he was much more than a year older than us."

"Serial killers that young aren't common," Reid noted. "But we know it has happened. If you add fourteen to twenty-five that puts him at about the age range we're looking at for our Un-Sub; late thirties," he concluded.

"You're considering Douglas Fowler a suspect?" Emily asked, clearly not convinced of the possibility. "Because I hit him twenty-five years ago?"

"People have killed for far less," Hotch noted. "JJ, get Garcia to run the name," he instructed before turning back to Emily. "What about the names of the other two boys who were with Fowler? If they stayed friends, maybe he convinced one or both of them to help him."

Emily was actually starting to worry that they might be on to something, even as far-fetched as it seemed. "Uh, Billy…. Billy Wallace and Kevin Amberly." She was surprised she could even pull those names out her memory bank.

"Good," Hotch wrote them down and slipped the pad of paper to JJ so she could relay it to Garcia. He then addressed his team with a heavy heart. "Even with this information, I think our only real choice is to wait this out," he announced.

"What do you mean?" Derek questioned his directive.

As glad as he was to have his job back, some days Hotch really hated being the boss. "I think we need to wait until tomorrow and hope that our Un-Sub keeps to his pattern. Hope that he leaves us a clue this time."

"You're talking about waiting until Jessica and Melissa Zanvil show up dead," Emily was beyond shocked. "That's not acceptable," she seethed.

"They've been missing for six days. We all know what that means. It's more than likely those girls are already dead," Hotch flat-out told her. But those words were nothing compared to the next ones out of his mouth. "Prentiss, you're off the case."

Emily jumped to her feet. "You can't do that, not now! If this is the same guy who killed my sister…"

"Precisely why you shouldn't be involved," Hotch stopped her. "I thought you were too close before, now I know you are."

Reid nervously cleared his throat. "If it makes any difference, I don't think he'll go after Emily. His mind is clearly stuck on the past event. He's going after twelve year old girls because that's the way he remembers her. Emily doesn't fit that profile anymore."

She latched on to Reid's theory. "You see, he doesn't want me. I can't just sit and do nothing, Hotch." Emily could see that he was doing his best to avoid eye contact with her, but she kept at him. "What if it was your sister?

Hotch couldn't help feel sorry for what she was going through, but he stood his ground. "I don't know what I would do, but in this case it's not my sister," he informed her as gently as possible. "I don't believe you can be objective on this. I want you back in DC first thing tomorrow. I'll get Sergeant Tully to have someone escort you back to the hotel."

"Don't bother!" Emily snapped as she stormed out of the conference room, leaving the door hanging open.

Derek made a move to go after her, but spun on Hotch. "What was that?" he asked.

"I already let her stay too long," Hotch shook his head. "She has been hell bent on finding this guy, to the point of distraction. She wanted to pin it on that coach the other day. I could see it in her eyes. I know you saw it too."

"But she didn't," Derek pointed out. "She backed down when you made the call."

"This is my call too," Hotch noted. "It's not up to you to make those decisions any more."

Morgan felt the sting of his words. "Right," he shook his head before exiting the room.

Hotch followed after him and caught his arm. "Morgan, do we have a problem?"

Derek pulled away. "No," he said the word a bit sharply and then took a calming breath. "No," he repeated in a softer tone. "I didn't mean to be cross with you, but I'm worried about her. I can understand what she must be feeling. I know if it was one of my sisters, I wouldn't be able to sit still."

"Then help her by helping me and this team," Hotch appealed to him. "Help her sister rest in peace by catching this guy."

"You mean sit back and wait for this bastard to kill again?"

The look on Hotch's face told Derek that he didn't like the idea any more than the rest of them. "Do you have a better idea? Because I am open to suggestions at this point. But unless Garcia can get anything on those names Emily gave us, I don't see that we have any other choice."

Derek had to admit that Hotch was right. "No, I don't have any better ideas." And that was what really killed him inside; knowing that one of the most important cases they had ever worked on was also the one they couldn't seem to solve. "Are you doing this because of what happened with Elle?"

That was about the last thing Hotch wanted to be reminded of at the moment, but there was an ounce of truth to it. "I don't want Emily in a position to do anything that might jeopardize her career. She's a good agent and an excellent profiler."

Morgan was thankful of Hotch's honesty. "Do you know what today is?"

"Thursday," his boss replied, a little confused by the question.

"Yeah," Derek nodded. "It's Thursday; Emily's birthday. I figured we'd be off this case by now and I was planning to help her have a happy birthday for the first time in twenty-five years. But now…" he sighed, thinking about the turn their case had just taken. "I don't know if that's possible." Derek looked Hotch in the eye. "I'd still like to try, though."

Hotch put a hand to Morgan's shoulder. "Go," he gave his permission. "I'll let you know if Garcia finds anything."

xxx

Emily paced in front of the large window on the east wall of her hotel room. She stopped and glanced outside at the darkness that had descended. A thick cover of fog rolled in, lending an ominous tone to the streets and buildings below. It was almost as if the city knew their Un-Sub was gearing up for another attack. She sighed and walked over to her bed. Kneeling down, Emily picked up the files she'd held on to. There wasn't much in them, mostly just some softball team photos and school portraits of all six girls.

A knock at the door caused her to jump and Emily realized she was a little on edge. She carefully collected the pictures and files then shoved them between the mattress and box spring of her bed. Emily answered the door and found Derek standing there with his black ready bag in one hand. "Hey," she greeted.

"How you doing?" he asked.

"How do you think?" She rolled her eyes at his ridiculous question and let him in. "Is Hotch pissed at me?" Emily asked as she closed the door.

"I don't think so," Derek let her know with a confident smile.

She allowed herself to be comforted by that thought. "I shouldn't have stormed off like I did. I'm not even really upset with Hotch. I just wish he could understand that being close to this case will only make me work harder."

"I know," Derek sympathized with her as he glanced around the room. "Which is why…" he walked over to her bed and sat his bag down. Then he grabbed the edge of a file that was sticking out beneath her mattress. Derek held it up. "I won't tell anyone about this," he concluded.

She shrugged guilty. "So, agent Morgan, what's in the bag? Going somewhere?" Emily attempted to divert the conversation.

He chuckled; glad to see that her spirits had not been completely crushed by Hotch's dismissal. Derek unzipped the bag. "This is not your average everyday ready bag. This happens to be a special birthday version," he glanced over his shoulder to gauge her reaction. She looked cautious but not upset. Derek took that as a good sign and started pulling items out. "We have chocolate cupcakes, chocolate milk, popcorn and a special movie."

Emily looked at the items he'd laid out. "If I eat that much junk food I'll never get to sleep tonight."

"Popcorn is healthy," he grinned.

She reached for the DVD and read the title, "The Sound of Music. Are you planning to watch this with me?"

"If you'd like," Derek nodded. She wore a blank look that caused him to worry. "I know you said you don't like to celebrate your birthday, but I want to celebrate it, because you're my friend. I'm glad you joined the BAU and I'm glad that I've gotten to know you these last few years. I'm glad you were born to do those things." He stood there nervously waiting for her reaction. Slowly her lips curled upward. "I was hoping to find that tonight."

"What?" she asked.

Derek reached out and ran a finger along her cheek. "This smile," he answered. "I got you to smile."

Emily grinned broader, seeing how proud he was of his success. "That's because you make the people around you feel good," she replied.

He smiled brightly too, remembering the first time she'd said those words to him. Derek snatched up the container of cupcakes. "Does that mean we get to celebrate?" He opened the package and waved the chocolate-iced treats under her nose.

She caved and plucked one from its plastic prison. "It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

Several hours later they were propped up by a wall of pillows at the head of her bed. They'd both consumed a plethora of junk food, which their stomachs were protesting. And the Von Trapp family was hiking toward freedom while _'climb every mountain'_ was playing. Derek had stopped paying attention to the movie, though. His eyes had settled on Emily, watching as she silently mouthed the words to the song. It didn't take her long to realize he was starring. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," Derek looked back to the TV screen. "I'm just glad you're having a good time. I had this vision of making today one of the best birthday's you've ever had, but I know that's not possible considering everything that happened this morning. I just wish I could have done something nicer, though; dinner, drinks, maybe some dancing."

Emily turned on her side so that she was facing him. "Derek, you _have_ made this a good day," she insisted. "This is the best birthday I've had since…" her thoughts drifted. "Usually I spend my birthday's wondering what Erica's life would have been like. I was just thinking maybe she'd be married and have a bunch of kids that sang. I could have been an aunt."

Derek heard the longing in her voice. He placed a hand against her shoulder. "The other night you said you haven't felt whole since Erica died. I don't know that you fully mourned her death, but I'm pretty sure you never mourned for the life you lost when your sister died."

"What do you mean?"

"She wasn't there for a sweet sixteen party or a twenty-one run. She wasn't at your high school or college graduation. But you keep wishing for her to be there, doing all of the things you should have done together. I felt that way for a long time after my dad died," Derek admitted. "Eventually I moved past that grief, but you still see your life in those terms. That's why you feel something is missing."

Emily knew the truth of his words, but it was still hard to let go. "I'm sorry I just ruined all of your hard work to make this day special."

"Maybe it's time for your gift," Derek replied as he rolled off the bed onto his feet. He crossed the room to where his ready bag had been tossed, and fished out the last item inside.

"This whole night has been a gift," Emily said, standing and following him. "You've gone above and beyond the call of friendship here, Derek. I don't need anything else."

He handed her a square white box. "I already bought it and had it engraved so I can't take it back. You might as well open it," he tried to pretend that it was no big deal. "I know it isn't exactly diamonds, but…" Derek paused a second. "Are you going to open it?"

Emily stared at the cardboard box with the hotel's name on it. She carefully pulled the lid off and removed the soft layer of cotton to find a silver necklace inside. Emily plucked it out and discarded the box. The charm on the necklace was shaped like a book. And, etched on the silver book was the title: _Little Women_. "Derek, it..."

"That's in honor of your sister," Derek noted as he turned it over in her hand to reveal the writing on the back. "This message is for you."

She read it aloud, "Always D." Emily curled her fingers around the necklace and wrapped her arms around him, burying her head against his shoulder.

He held her, feeling his shirt sleeve grow damp. "This crying on my shoulder is starting to become a habit," Derek chuckled softly, not sure what to think of her reaction. He was worried that he'd gone too far using the book title. "You don't like it?" he finally asked.

Emily pulled back. "I like it, Derek. I like it very much." She held the necklace out to him. "Will you put it on for me?"

She turned around and pulled her hair to one side for him. Emily tried not to laugh at how nervous he seemed while clumsily placing the chain around her neck. Standing in front of him again, she watched as he straightened the charm. His warm hands brushed against her skin and one of them moved to the back of her neck. Her heart caught in her throat as he leaned forward and pressed his soft, moist lips against hers. She closed her eyes for a moment and indulged the unexpected kiss.

When they broke apart, Derek was shocked to realize what he'd just done. But no apology wished to leap from his mouth. "I'm not sorry I just kissed you. I don't want it to make things weird between us, though." Derek had never felt so nervous around a woman before. "I'm your friend, Emily. I will be your friend until the end of time. Nothing can change that. So, if you don't…"

"Derek," she stopped him. "I'm not sorry you kissed me either, but…"

His face fell. "I really hate that little word."

Emily looked down at her bare feet. "It's not that I haven't thought about this before. I just…" she sighed heavily. "I manage to lose everyone I care about. My sister died, my father left," Emily's voice cracked as she spoke. "My mother became distant and Matthew…" she paused. "Everyone leaves me and I couldn't bear losing you too," Emily admitted to the fear. She watched him for a reaction but found that he was quiet. "You're not saying anything."

"Someone I respect once told me a guy is supposed to shut up when a woman tells him about her feelings."

She couldn't help but smile. "Well, I've never met a guy like you before," Emily told him. "I've come to value your opinion."

Derek took a deep breath. "In that case, I think you're being a fool," he honestly relayed. "But I guess I have been too, because I've felt something for you for a long time. I think even Garcia saw the feelings I had for you before I was willing to admit them. I just kept thinking it was wrong, because we work together. But recent events have me thinking that life is too short to waste."

His words helped buoy her confidence. "I have a confession to make. I've been attracted to you since the day I found out you were a Kurt Vonnegut fan."

He pulled her close, leaning his forehead against hers. "I think you may be the first woman who's ever fallen in love with my brain rather than my body."

"Well, that's not so bad either," she admitted, closing the miniscule gap between them and initiating their second kiss.

"This is strange, but a good strange," Derek whispered against her lips. "I should probably go, though, it's getting late." He took her hand as they walked toward the door.

Emily stopped him just before he reached for the door handle. "Or, you could stay."

Derek smiled, wrapping his arms around her again. "You have no idea how tempting that offer is, but I don't want to rush this."

"Three years is rushing?"

He chuckled. "I want this case to be behind us, so we can focus on the future." Derek kissed her forehead. "Thank you for allowing me to spend this birthday with you. I never got to meet your sister, but I know you. You _are_ a whole person, Emily. You're special, all on your own," he let her know. "Now, you should try to get some sleep." He watched as she rolled her eyes and knew his chocolate overindulgence was to blame. "Maybe you'll get lucky and have a sugar crash. If not, I'll bring coffee in the morning before you head to the airport."

"You better," she replied, reluctantly opening the door for him.

Derek nodded his promise as he stepped into the hall.

xxx

Emily flicked on the lamp beside her bed. The digital clock displayed one-forty-five in bright red numbers. Her head was killing her and she silently cursed Derek's junk food binge, but she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Her hand rested on the book charm against her chest as she remembered everything that had happened earlier. Her and Derek as a couple, it was an absurd idea. Yet she hoped they might find an ounce of happiness with one another.

She pushed her sheets and comforter back, sitting up. Emily grabbed the files that had been pushed under her mattress and spread them out in front of her. She knew that part of her headache was due to the case, and to Hotch pulling her off it, and her sister's killer still being out there somewhere. The girl's faces stared back at her, eyes shinning, their whole lives ahead of them. But there was something wrong. Emily finally saw it for the first time. She grabbed her phone and dialed.

"_Somebody better be dead,"_ Penelope's less than amused voice answered.

"Two more girls may be."

"_Emily? It's almost two o'clock in the morning."_

"I know, but I can't sleep, Garcia. I don't think I'll be able to sleep again until this guy is caught and these pictures keep staring at me like they're trying to tell me something. They're not smiling and they should be smiling. Can you help me?" Emily dearly hoped the tech didn't know about Hotch removing her from the case.

"_You want to go over this, now?"_

"Yes."

Garcia sighed, hearing the desperation in Emily's voice. _"I can be at the office in a half hour,"_ she offered. _"I'll call you back then?"_

"Thank you, Garcia," Emily hung up. She knew that the next half hour was going to feel like forever.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 5

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Derek glanced down at his watch and noted the time; it was nearly six in the morning. The fact that he'd fallen asleep with his watch on was testament to the fact that he hadn't been getting enough rest. None of the team had. And it was still early, but he couldn't stay in bed any longer. He showered and dressed quickly. The plan for his day was to have coffee with Emily, see her off to the airport and after that, find the bastard who killed her sister. He grabbed his wallet, credentials and cell phone before heading toward the door.

He didn't see the slip of folded paper on his floor, but he heard a crunch as he stepped on it. Derek took a step backward and bent over to pick it up, noticing that his name was on the front in Emily's handwriting. That small detail brought an unbidden smile to his face. He flipped the note open and read. "Derek, I don't remember if I thanked you properly for last night, but please know that it meant more to me than you could possibly understand. Thank you for making at least one last birthday a happy one." It was sighed simply with her name.

The happiness he first felt at reading the message slowly drained as he re-read the end. "At least one last birthday," Derek whispered, feeling a little sick.

Getting coffee was the furthest thing from his mind as he dashed down the hall to Emily's room. He knocked on her door as a barrage of thoughts swam around in his head. He couldn't figure out the exact tone of her note, but he knew it wasn't good. Derek honestly didn't think she was suicidal, but that thought seemed to be plaguing him more than any other. She had a ton of weight on her shoulders; knowing the guy who killed her sister was still on the loose and having Hotch pull her off the case. It was enough to put anyone on edge.

"Emily!" he called out as he knocked louder.

His worry grew to a crescendo and it seemed like minutes had passed since he'd first arrived at her door, though it was probably more like seconds. He reached for his cell phone and punched in her number. Almost immediately he could hear a phone ringing inside her room. "Pick up, Emily," he pleaded. "Please, pick up the phone." Derek was still trying to convince himself that she'd fallen asleep and was just so exhausted that not even the ringing phone could rouse her.

The soft rumble of a cleaning cart passed by him and Morgan slammed his phone shut. He spun around and grabbed the custodian woman's arm. "Hey!" she responded, pulling away.

"I need you to open this door for me," he demanded.

"I can't just go opening doors for anyone who asks," the middle-aged woman protested. "You could be some kind of serial killer for all I know."

Derek fumed at himself for being stupid. He pulled out his badge and flashed it at her. "The woman inside there could be in trouble, now open the door!" If she didn't do it in about three seconds he was prepared to kick it in and suffer the consequences.

She grabbed the master keycard from the pant's pocket of her uniform and opened the door. Derek pushed past her and called out again. "Emily!" He didn't find her in the main room and a quick search of the small bathroom also revealed nothing. His heart beat faster as he noted at her rumpled bed covers and the pictures strewn all over. He went to her bag and found clothes inside, as well as the book her sister had given her. Derek was almost certain that she hadn't left for the airport, but he called to be sure.

"_She isn't due until eight o'clock this morning, sir," _the pilot informed him. _"But I can call you back as soon as she arrives."_

Derek took a second to thank the man and then hung up. He was pretty sure the pilot wouldn't be seeing her at all. A phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Derek realized that it wasn't his cell, but Emily's. He snapped it up off the table by her bed. "Emily?" he asked.

"_Derek?"_ Garcia's confused voice replied. _"I could have sworn I dialed Emily."_

"You did," he answered. "Do you know where she is?"

"_I thought she was at the hotel with the rest of you."_

Morgan sighed in frustration. "What did you find out about those three names JJ sent you yesterday?"

"_I gave Hotch a full report on that last night. Douglas Fowler is an investment banker in Boston and Billy Wallace is an architect in Connecticut. They both have families, no criminal records, nothing at all to suggest they might have killed a bunch of young girls. Didn't you talk to Hotch? He dismissed them as potential suspects."_

"I was with Emily last night, celebrating her birthday." He couldn't help remembering how happy Emily had seemed when he'd last seen her. The impromptu birthday party and those first kisses they'd shared, it almost seemed like a dream to him now.

Garcia groaned. "_I can't believe I completely forgot to tell her happy birthday when we were…"_

"What about the third guy?" Morgan cut her off.

"_Kevin Amberly is a project coordinator with the Peace Corp. He's been down in Argentina for the last fifteen years working to improve conditions on beef cattle farms. Hotch ruled him out as well,"_ she reported. _"Now would you please tell me why you answered Emily's phone and don't seem to know where she…"_

"I have to go," Derek hung up on her as he exited Emily's room and went to knock on JJ's door down the hall. JJ answered dressed in her hotel robe as she blinked away sleep. "Are you awake?" he asked, oblivious to anything other than focusing on Emily's whereabouts.

JJ starred at him, wide-eyed for a moment. "I am now. What's going on?" She easily picked up on his odd mood.

"Have you seen Emily this morning?" Derek glanced over her shoulder, looking around the room.

"Derek, I was asleep until you started pounding on my door a few seconds ago," JJ informed him. "I haven't seen Emily since she left the station yesterday. What's going on?"

"I need you to contact the rest of the team and have everyone meet in Emily's room. As soon as possible, JJ," he implored.

The BAU's media liaison had everyone gathered in Emily's room in less than fifteen minutes. Derek speedily went over everything that he knew. "She hasn't shown up at the airport and her things are all still here, bag, clothes, even her cell phone."

Hotch picked up some of the pictures from her bed. "Was she still working on this case? Did you know about these?" he asked.

Derek took a deep breath. "I knew she still had the files, yes," he admitted. "But as of last night she was prepared to leave today, like you requested."

"Do you think someone took her?" Rossi proposed. "Could our Un-Sub have found her here?"

Morgan thought about it for only a second and shook his head. He reluctantly handed over the note Emily had given him and watched as Hotch read it. "The only thing I can tell that's missing is her gun," he revealed. "I think she's going after this guy on her own."

"She doesn't even know who he is, does she?" Reid asked.

Derek shrugged. "I don't know." He hit Garcia's number on his cell.

Penelope answered with a pre-emptive strike. _"Hanging up on a person is very rude,"_ she chastised him. _"Not to mention the two times you cut me off."_

"I'm sorry, baby girl, truly," he apologized. "Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker." Derek hit the button. "Okay, the rest of the team is here."

"Except for Emily," JJ added.

"_Which is probably why I just got a call from her mother,"_ Garcia revealed. _"To say that she's not happy would be a gross understatement. Ambassador Prentiss told me she got a call from Emily at about four o'clock this morning. That's not too long after we hung up."_

"We?" Hotch questioned.

"_Emily and I,"_ the technical analyst clarified. _"Emily called me really early this morning. She was pretty rattled about the case. The Ambassador said Emily was asking questions about an old family friend of theirs. Carlyle. And that name came up when I was going over things with Emily earlier. He's an orthodontist in Boston. Emily dropped the matter after we got to that point, and I didn't dwell on it because I really wanted to go home and sleep,"_ she admitted. _"When I got home, though, I couldn't sleep because the name kept gnawing at me. So, I came back to the office to do some more digging. I was expecting Emily to call because she told me she was going to go over this new information with all of you this morning."_

"I pulled Emily off the case yesterday," Hotch let her know.

"_You… uh… oh boy, I did not know that, sir,"_ Garcia gulped nervously. _"She didn't tell me that."_

"Of course she didn't," Hotch tried not to be too upset, knowing he was just as much to blame for that miscarriage of information.

JJ flipped through the pages of a notepad she had with her, the same one she'd been mindlessly jotting down things in when Emily recalled the night of her sister's attack. "Carlyle is the name of that boy Erica was talking to the night she was taken. Emily said she thought his name was Adam."

"_No to Adam,"_ Garcia broke in. _"John and Patricia Carlyle were the Prentiss family friends. They had three sons, David, Matthew and Andrew. Andrew is the youngest, the one who's an orthodontist. Emily made that leap when she noticed that the girls weren't smiling in a lot of the pictures we had of them. She thought that was odd, because according to the families the girls were very happy. Emily remembered that when she had braces for a year and a half she didn't like to smile much. Sure enough, the pictures we tracked down of the girls smiling showed some pretty crooked grins. Come to find out they'd all had consultations with an orthodontist recently."_

Rossi shook his head. "Let me guess, Andrew Carlyle?"

"_Yes,"_ Garcia confirmed.

"Emily slighted him that night by not going to talk to him with Erica," Derek concluded, trying to keep his anger in check.

"Why didn't we find this out earlier when you searched for medical and dental history on the girls?" Hotch asked.

Garcia sighed. _"Because, sir, the Monroe's insurance doesn't cover orthodontia treatments. They made cash payments for Tina and Tracy's consultation. The paper trail wasn't as clear as it would have been with a credit card. That's why it didn't show up until I dug deeper," _she explained, feeling a little guilty for having missed it.

"What else did you figure out about this guy?" Dave inquired. "Do we have any real proof that he's our Un-Sub?"

"_He's forty-five, which would have made him twenty at the time of Erica's death. Tall guy, dark hair, with really green eyes. He was pre-med for a year and then switched to Harvard School of Dental Medicine. Interned under an Orthodontist and also studied further to become an oral surgeon. He's shared an office with a Dr. Huy Le for the last twelve years. I also found an interesting interview from the Massachusetts Journal of Orthodontics and Dentofacial Orthopedics, in which Carlyle talks about meeting his wife, Allison. They attended some function in college around Thanksgiving of 1984 and were married that New Years Eve."_

Reid frowned. "Fast engagement," he noted.

"_Yep, and the pictures I've seen of his wife, dark hair and brown eyes; she looks a lot like our Emily."_ Garcia relayed.

"The older cases occurred in late October and early November in 1984, after Erica was killed in early October. Carlyle met his wife toward the end of November. So, he found himself a substitute and the killings stopped. It's strange, but not out of the realm of possibility," Rossi surmised.

Derek held on tight to Emily's note in his left hand. "So what happened twenty-five years later to make him start killing again?" he asked.

Penelope continued. _"It seems the Carlyle's had some trouble conceiving, because there are a lot of doctor's bills from a fertility clinic. According to financial records they finally hired a surrogate and had one child, a girl. And get ready for this bit of creepiness, they named her Emily. I can just about imagine how he cajoled the wife into that one. Hey honey, why don't we name this beautiful innocent new baby of ours after a girl I was obsessed with when I was twenty and she was thirteen. Eww and ick."_

"Garcia," Hotch spoke her name in a warning tone.

"_Sorry,"_ she apologized. _"The wife and sixteen year old daughter were killed this past August when a drunk driver t-boned their mini-van."_

"Sounds like a hell of a stressor to me," Rossi felt they finally had their affirmation of Carlyle's guilt. "So, after the accident he grieves, buries the wife and child and then his mind reverts to the killings and he starts taking girls again."

Reid nodded along as Dave spoke. "And he just happened to have an ample supply of twins show up at his practice," the young man concluded.

"Garcia, tell me you have an address?" Derek coaxed.

"_I have work and home. Both are winging their way through cyberspace to you now."_

Hotch gave out the orders, "Dave, I want you to take JJ and check out the office. Morgan, Reid and I will go to his house. Garcia, I'm hoping that Prentiss is only a few steps ahead of us on this and that we'll run into her at his home or office. If not…"

"You need me to track down the wonderful and strange Emily Prentiss. I'm on it, sir," she finished his thought and disconnected the call.

xxx

Hotch had called in Sergeant Tully and a SWAT team to meet them and they'd cleared the house, finding nobody inside. So far they hadn't been able to find any sign of Andrew Carlyle's serial killer nature, either. The house was neat as could be. Derek found that a little odd, considering the guy had just lost his wife and only child. It seemed things would be slightly out of place, dirty dishes and laundry, some sort of blaring evidence out in the open. Then he discovered a linen closet that was stocked with rubber gloves and medical scrubs.

"He's an oral surgeon," Reid noted. "He had access to these things and could have easily disposed of them in his office's biohazard containers. It's no wonder we never found prints on any of his victims."

Derek knew there had to be something and he planned to find it. He set about searching the master bedroom, but everything was orderly like the rest of the house. Morgan grew a little more worried about Emily as he searched the closet to no avail. But, as he turned to exit, the hardwood floor boards beneath his feet creaked. He crouched down to inspect them and when he ran his hand over the spot, the boards shifted.

The first board came up with no trouble, so did the others after that. "Guys, I might have something here!" He quickly tore up the rest of the closet floor and shinned a light into the hole he'd made. Derek spotted something and pulled it out to discover that it was a plastic shoebox.

Inside they found pictures and articles all pertaining to Emily. There was a graduation announcement and commencement photos, even copies of her official FBI badge photo. There were also a few still shots from press conferences in which Emily could be seen in the background. But the thing that really turned Derek's stomach was the small photo album he found tucked in the bottom of the box. "What the hell is this?" he asked as he flipped through it.

Reid looked over Morgan's shoulder to see a wedding photo of Andrew Carlyle and his wife. Except Allison's head had been cut out and replaced with Emily's. "That's creepy."

"No," Derek shook his head. "This is beyond creepy. The man is obsessed with her," he knew it without a doubt.

Hotch's cell phone rang. "Dave, what have you got?"

"_Carlyle hasn't been keeping up with work since his wife and daughter died, which can be expected. According to Dr. Le he's always been a bit reserved, but he claims Carlyle was a good husband and father. His work has quite a reputation too. There are dozens of awards lining the walls of his office. Emily hasn't been here, though,"_ he concluded.

"She's not here either," Hotch sighed. "I need you to have Dr. Le release their biohazard containers to you. I want them sent to a lab to see if we can get any samples that match our victims," he ordered before hanging up.

Reid had ducked into another room while Hotch was on the call. He came back to the master suite with several items in hand. "I found a check roster in the study that shows he's been paying a cleaning service; explains the tidiness. Also, his day planner has today's date circled in red. It's Friday the thirteenth."

Derek was still going through the items in the box as he listened to Reid. "You think this guy is superstitious?" he asked. "Or maybe he likes numerology? The girls were all about to turn thirteen. Emily and Erica were thirteen when he went after them."

"I think the number is coincidence," Reid replied. "I'm pretty sure it's about the day, Friday. Can you get Garcia on the phone?" Morgan complied; dialing the tech. Reid did the talking. "What day of the week was October twelfth of 1984?" the young man asked.

"_Odd question, but let's see… it was a Tuesday. Why?"_

Reid pursed his lips, having suspected as much. "Emily said it was three days after their birthday that she and Erica walked to the marina. Three days after Tuesday is Friday. Today is the Friday after Emily's birthday. I think he's luring her back to where this all started," he revealed. "Look at this," Reid showed Hotch the third item he'd found on Carlyle's desk in the study. "It's a copy of his parent's Last Will and Testament from a year ago. They left him their vacation house in Cape Cod."

"Garcia, what did you find on Prentiss?" Hotch asked as he motioned for the others to follow him to the SUV. They made their way while listening to Garcia.

"_I caught a glimpse of her on the hotel security tape,"_ she began. _"Emily looks distracted. And the dark circles under her eyes suggest she could use a good night's rest,"_ Penelope didn't think she'd seen the almost always perfectly put together Prentiss look so frazzled, except for that day she'd turned up at the BAU drenched to the bone. _"She exited the hotel lobby at a quarter to six this morning. I checked commercial flights and car rentals. She used a personal credit card at Alliance Car Rentals, about three blocks from the hotel. My guess is she walked there."_

Derek climbed into the front passenger's seat as Hotch got behind the wheel and Reid sat in back. He dearly wished he'd taken Emily up on her offer to stay the night, thinking maybe he could have gotten her to rest a little. At the very least he could have kept an eye on her. Derek knew she would have hated that, though, being treated like a victim. "Can you find out what kind of car she rented or where she's headed?"

"_She rented a barebones sedan, no tracking system or GPS,"_ Garcia relayed the grim facts.

"Then she must already know where the Carlyle vacation house is located," Hotch figured.

"I don't think she's going to the house," Reid spoke up from the backseat.

"Why not?" Derek asked.

"Because the house doesn't mean anything to the encounter Andrew and Emily had that night," Reid answered. "The implied rejection happened at the marina. All of the girls he's killed, their bodies were found near water features," he reminded them.

Morgan realized he was right. "Garcia, how many marinas are there in the Cape Cod area?" he was quick to ask.

"_Dozens,"_ she replied, pulling up a map of the area on her screen.

Derek gnashed his teeth. "I need a better answer than that. How about within walking distance of the Prentiss house?"

"_Well, that could be a problem, because I can't find any record that they ever had a house at Cape Cod,"_ Penelope replied, having already started that search in anticipation.

"Emily told me her mother paid off police officials to cover up Erica's involvement in their investigation," Morgan remembered. "I'm guessing selling the house was just another way she carved Erica out of her life, not wanting to remember the place where the girls celebrated their last birthday together. You won't find a record of that sell," Derek concluded.

Hotch wasn't surprised. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if he lost Jack. "Garcia, I need you to call Ambassador Printess and ask her what marina the girls went to that night."

"_Call her? I should let you know that after her previous call, she… uh… kind of scares me,"_ Garcia relayed her irrational fear.

"And what about Emily's life being in danger?" Morgan countered. "Which of those two prospects scares you more?"

"_Calling the Ambassador it is,"_ she disconnected, but called them back just a few minutes later. "_Hotch,"_ Garcia's voice sounded a little wary. _"The Ambassador wants to talk to you, sir. Actually, she threatened to have me fired if I didn't patch you through."_

He gave his approval. "Go ahead, Garcia."

_The Ambassador's voice held a note of undeniable annoyance. "Agent Hotchner, I'd like to know what is going on. Your tech person just asked me about a house we owned on Cape Cod and the marina closest to it, but she wouldn't tell me what this is all about. Emily called this morning asking some very odd questions about the Carlyle family, and now I can't reach her."_

"Ma'am, we believe that Andrew Carlyle may have killed several girls in the Boston area. We're trying to catch him."

"_And what aren't you telling me? Where is Emily?"_

Hotch decided it best not to lie to her. "Ma'am, we have very good reason to believe this man was also responsible for the death of your daughter, Erica, twenty-five years ago. And we think Emily has gone after him."

A long span of silence followed and they weren't sure if she'd hung up or not. "_Then you've given Emily exactly what she wanted. This is the reason she joined the FBI in the first place, why she lobbied so hard to be put on your team. She will risk her life to bring her sister's killer to justice. Don't you see that?!"_ she screamed at them. _"I hope that you all are proud of yourselves for letting this happen."_ There was a brief pause. _"The girls went to the Nauticus Marina that night."_ The call ended abruptly.

"Garcia?" Derek checked that she was still on the line.

"_Nauticus Marina is in North Bay, about sixty miles from your current location. I'm already feeding it to your GPS."_

Morgan relaxed a little. "Thanks, doll. You're the best."

"_Just keep in mind, Emily's probably twenty to thirty minutes ahead of you according to the time I got off the rental car security camera. Find her before he does, okay?"_

"You can bet on it," Derek assured her.

"Garcia, call Dave and JJ. Tell them where we're headed and have them go to the Carlyle vacation house and check it out," Hotch instructed.

"_Will do,"_ she confirmed, hanging up.

"I was wrong," Reid spoke up. "I told her that he'd reverted to a mental state in the past and that he wouldn't go after her, but he knew about Emily being in the FBI and he created all those pictures. I think he knew that killing girls again would get her to come after him. If he's going back to the marina, he definitely remembers where and why this all started. What if he does want her? I gave her false information that could get her killed. And she was so upset about leaving her sister behind, what if she's willingly walking right into his hands?"

"No!" Morgan turned to face Reid. "Don't go down that road, kid. Emily wants this guy, but she wants to save those girls more than anything. That's all. She is not going to do anything stupid." Derek honestly didn't believe she wanted to die. Not after their talk the night before. She was just angry, and she had every right to be. He turned back around and pointed a finger toward the road. "Just drive faster, Hotch. Emily's in a rental, she'll need to obey the speed laws more closely." At least, he hoped she would.

Hotch flipped on the SUV's blue and red flashing lights and sped up.

xxx

The cool breeze coming off the water blew her coat open as she walked the length of the dock. Emily hadn't been back since the night she and Erica had visited. It didn't look the same as she remembered. The dock and the store had gotten old, both with flaking paint and worn cedar boards. It was also broad daylight, not the haze of twilight. But despite all that, the place still unnerved her. It was the last place she remembered her sister smiling and laughing.

Emily pushed open the squeaky store door and stepped inside. The old sale's counter was covered in a thick layer of dust, as were the shelves behind it. The rest of the expansive area was filled with stacks of cardboard boxes and rows of red and white metal barrels. There was no sign of Carlyle, but Emily was certain he'd show. He was using Fridays for a reason, and it was the Friday after her birthday. Emily had pieced that together fairly easily after discovering his connection to the victims.

A muffled scream caught her attention and Emily reached for the gun at her side. She cautiously moved toward the source of the noise and found a staircase that led down. Emily took each step as quietly as she could, holding her gun out in front to lead the way. At the bottom of the stairs she heard another small sound that directed her steps. She crept around the lower level, which was packed with even more of the same barrels she'd seen upstairs. They were hindering her view.

Rounding a sharp corner, Emily again led with her weapon. She was shocked to see the sight before her. One of the Zanvil twins was a few feet in front of her, and Carlyle was crouched down beside the girl. Emily's heart leapt to see the child alive. She locked eyes with the girl and put a finger to her lips as she snuck up behind Carlyle. When she was just an inch away from him, Emily used her gun to clobber him in the back of the head.

He fell forward with a soft thud and Emily rushed to the girl's side. "Jessica?" Emily had studied the pictures enough to tell the sisters apart. It helped that they weren't identical. "My name is Emily, I'm with the FBI," she announced, holstering her gun. Jessica threw herself at the woman and Emily comforted the girl. "Do you know where your sister is?"

Jessica sobbed as Emily stroked her hair. "I'm not sure. We were at a house for a while. There was a swimming pool in the back yard and he… he…"

Emily helped the girl stand. Then she removed her jacket and wrapped it around the child's shaking body. "Jessica, you're safe now. He's not going to hurt you. Do you know what he did to your sister?"

"He hit her, hard," the girl replied. "I think he had a rock or something. She fell and I tried to go to her but he pulled me away. He wouldn't let me check on her. Is she… is she dead?"

Emily shook her head. "I don't know, Jessica. I need you to be strong for me right now. I have to make sure he doesn't go anywhere, but I want you to get out of here, can you do that for me? There's a staircase over there," she pointed.

"I remember coming down it," Jessica sniffed back her tears.

"Good, follow the path you remember and get outside. There should be some other FBI agents here really soon." Emily knew they would be following her. She'd taken the rental car and left her cell phone hoping to get Carlyle alone, if even for a minute. Emily hadn't expected to find the girls alive and now she felt horrible that she had no way to contact her team. "Tell them everything you can remember about Melissa and they'll help you find her. Go now."

She watched the girl run and was glad of it as she turned back to the man lying at her feet. Emily grabbed her gun again and crouched down next to him. Her left hand went to his neck to search for a pulse. She found one at the same moment she realized she had no cuffs on her. Cursing her decision to leave the hotel so quickly, she got up and searched the area for rope or something else to tie him up with. The search ended abruptly when the supposedly unconscious Carlyle knocked her to the ground and sent her gun skittering across the floor.

Emily recovered quickly and kicked him in the groin as he stood over her. She jumped to her feet and tackled him around the waist, causing them both to collide with a wall. "You are not going to get away this time, you bastard!" Emily growled as he fought against her with a wealth of strength.

"I'm so pleased you came, Emily," his voice was like molten rock; hard, yet velvety smooth all at once. "I didn't want to hurt any more of them, but I knew you'd come to stop me if I did." He brought his knee up and hit Emily in the ribcage, getting her to let go of his waist. He used the split second distraction to side-step her swinging fist and dropped down where her gun had landed. The weapon was in his hand for only a moment before Emily dove at him, taking him to the ground again.

Both of her hands clenched tightly around his left wrist, the hand which was holding her gun. She bashed his hand against the concrete floor several times but he managed to hang on to the weapon. "You are not going to win, Andrew!" Emily kept at him even as his free hand was balled into a fist that relentlessly punched her in the abdomen and ribs.

"Now you know my name?" he scoffed. "You didn't care to know me all those years ago."

"I was just a kid and so was my sister. You didn't have to kill her. You wanted me, why didn't you just take me?!" Emily quickly changed tactics and tried to get her finger on the trigger, thinking she could fire a round and startle him enough to get the gun away.

He regarded her with narrow green eyes, as if he were reading her mind. "Do you know what's stored in these barrels? Fuel supply," he told her. "One spark would be enough to set off a chain reaction." His words caused Emily to drop her guard for a second. It was all he needed. Andrew flipped her over and rammed his knee into the small of her back. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "That's fine with me. I finally got my prize." He raised the gun and fired.

xxx

Hotch, Derek and Reid stormed into the general store at the Nauticus Marina. There were people mulling about at the front counter and others browsing the wide selection of magazines, snacks and fishing gear. Reid immediately went to ask the clerk a few questions and flashed the older man a picture of Carlyle. Hotch and Derek moved about the place in an efficient manner, looking for anything that was out of place.

Morgan frowned as he glanced up at the ceiling. "If all of this went down twenty-five years ago, this can't be the place."

"Why not?" Hotch asked.

"It's too new; look at the exposed trusses. They're made of engineered wood," Derek pointed out. "That wasn't standard practice twenty-five years ago. This building looks to be no more than ten years old, if even that."

"Maybe it was remodeled," Reid suggested, as he joined them with the clerk at his side.

"No, the other fellow is right," the clerk confirmed Morgan's observation. "This store was built seven years ago after the new owners took over and expanded the marina.

Derek sighed, knowing they were losing valuable time. "Where is the old store? Or was it torn down?"

"It's still on the grounds," the older man replied as he walked them over to a large window. "Way at the other end of the marina to the east there," he pointed out. "We just use it for fuel storage these days." He turned around and realized they were already halfway out the door.

Morgan ran ahead of Hotch and Reid as they headed due east. They could see the old building in the distance, but there was an immense grassy field and large parking lot to cross. And what they saw running toward them stopped them all in their tracks. Derek reached her first and held the girl at arms length, looking her over. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Jessica was nearly out of breath as she nodded. "Yes, but Melissa… I don't know what he did to her," she sobbed.

Hotch's phone rang and he saw that it was Dave. "We have Jessica Zanvil, alive. Are you at the house?"

"_Yes, we found Melissa here. She has a pretty nasty blow to the head and is unconscious. JJ called for an ambulance. Printess isn't here, though. Do you have her?"_

"Emily's coat," Derek whispered as he noticed what Jessica was wearing.

"Morgan, Reid!" Hotch shouted. "Go!" he ordered, taking Jessica under his arm.

The two younger agents took off, but they were barely halfway across the field when as explosion sounded in the distance. They easily spotted the plum of smoke rising up from the east. "No, no, no!" Derek shouted as he doubled his speed. When he neared the small structure it was completely engulfed and several more explosions sent flames higher into the morning sky.

"Morgan stop!" Reid called out to his friend.

Derek continued forward, undaunted. "Emily!" he screamed out her name. There was a tug at the back of his shirt just before he reached the door to the blazing structure. Reid tackled him with greater strength than he could have imagined. Derek fell to his knees just short of the door. "EMILY!" his anguished scream echoed across the marina.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 6

By N. J. Borba

* * *

The atmosphere in the conference room was tense, to say the least. Hotch watched his team closely. They dealt with loss on a daily basis, but it was usually strangers; the victims they fought for. Not that it made the loss any easier, but it wasn't as personal. Losing Emily would be harder on them than just about anything else they'd seen and done in the last several years as part of the BAU team. There had been no official confirmation yet, but the only one still really holding out hope was Morgan.

Hotch and Reid, even Jessica Zanvil, would probably never be able to get Derek's scream out of their heads as long as they lived. Even if Emily walked through that door in the very next second, without a scratch on her, it would be a sound to follow Hotch to his grave. And Derek had not spoken a word since, not in thirty-six hours. Not as he'd searched the surrounding area all day and into the night. Not even as they'd made the drive back to Boston.

The ringing of JJ's cell phone caused them all to turn her way. She took the call and they each waited with barely restrained worry. "Thank you very much for letting us know," she hung up and faced the team. "Melissa Zanvil is going to be fine; she woke up a few hours ago. The swelling on her brain has almost completely gone down. She was extremely lucky. Both girls were seriously dehydrated and starving, but they're alive. I still can't believe they're alive."

"I think Carlyle knew he needed at least one of them alive to lure Emily," Rossi pointed out. "And he got what he wanted in the end."

"The end?" Derek challenged, speaking for the first time in almost two days. "What is that supposed to mean?" Morgan faced the older man. Then his eyes flicked from one face to the other, circling the room. "You all are ready to just assume she's gone, aren't you?"

Reid gulped, but bravely addressed his friend. "That's not true," he shook his head. "But the evidence so far…" the young genius couldn't help resorting to facts when the world didn't make sense to him. They were his comfort in the darkness.

"What evidence, Reid?" Derek snapped. "Because unless I see a body…" he threw up his hands.

"Morgan," Hotch hated to be the voice of reason, but Derek clearly wasn't seeing straight. "There were over two hundred drums of fuel in that storage building. It burned to the ground in less than two hours," he relayed the information they already knew.

Derek's jaw clenched tighter as he remained in a defensive stance. "She could have gotten out."

"Then where is she?" Hotch pushed, hoping it might do some good to break through Morgan's obvious denial. "She wouldn't have gotten far. There was nothing but water to the north and west, woods to the east, and we would have seen her on the marina grounds if she'd fled south. But we didn't see her or Carlyle."

Rossi jumped in. "Search teams have continued to work around the clock since we left the site, but they've all come up empty so far. Besides, she would have found a way to contact us by now if at all possible."

Derek shook his head. "Then maybe it's not possible. She could be hurt, confused… or maybe that bastard has her. I still don't believe she's gone," his voice was strong and defiant. The fire in his heart could not be snuffed out as easily as the one that had burned the marina storage building.

"Why don't you?" Reid questioned.

"I just don't," Morgan replied, knowing his reasoning sounded like that of a disobedient three-year-old. He didn't care.

"None of us want to believe that she's dead," Hotch finally said the actual word that Derek managed to keep avoiding. He watched the consequences it had on his team, the tears that brimmed in JJ's eyes; Rossi's deflated stance and Reid's crestfallen face. Derek turned his back to them all.

The conference room door opened, causing everyone but Derek to turn their attention to Sergeant Tully as he entered. He wore a face that was unmistakably filled with regret, having dealt with death and notifying families for more than half his life. Hotch feared what Tully held in the file he was carrying. "What is it?" the Unit Chief asked.

"Fire marshal's official report states that the remains of two human bodies were recovered from the rubble," Tully stated. "Due to the destructive nature of the explosions, the remains were scattered. But they did find enough to identify using dental records. Positive ID's were made for Andrew Carlyle and your agent, Emily Prentiss." His words hung in the air. "I am truly sorry for your loss," he conveyed. "The city of Boston and the municipality of Quincy would like to thank you for your dedicated service in bringing Andrew Carlyle to justice."

They were all lost for words. Even the expectation of her death hadn't fully prepared the team to hear the truth. "I… I need to contact Emily's parents." Hotch rarely ever used her first name, always the one to keep things professional. But death had a way of breaking down those boundaries. He glanced to where Derek was still standing stiff as a statue with his back to them. "Someone should call Garcia," he sighed. "I don't want her to see this on the news."

"I'll do it," JJ offered, sucking back her tears.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, even as another tear rolled freely down her cheek. JJ looked to Derek, knowing the news would be best coming from him as he and Penelope shared a bond that ran a lot deeper than mere friendship. But she knew from the telling body language that he was in no condition to relay such news. "Yes, I can do it," she assured Hotch.

"Agent Hotchner, you can use my office to make your call. It will be more private for you," Tully suggested. Hotch nodded his acceptance and followed the man out.

JJ held her cell phone in one hand, summoning the courage to dial Garcia. Rossi took her other hand in a show of support. JJ remembered when Emily had held her hand like that as they'd all waited for news of Penelope's condition after she'd been shot. She mindlessly hit the number keys and held her breath as she waited for the other woman to pick up.

"_Hello, my dear,"_ Penelope greeted JJ, more solemn than usual. _"I finally had to turn off the news because they just keep showing the site and I can't watch any more."_

"Gar… Penelope… Emily is…" JJ's voice cracked as she struggled to find the right words.

That was all it took for Derek to flee. He nearly ripped the conference room door off its hinges as he pushed through it and out into the precinct. Reid followed after him, dodging people and desks as he weaved through the police station. He continued after Morgan, which led him outside to an alley beside the station. Spencer watched as Derek pounded his right first repeatedly against the brick wall.

"Hey!" Reid called out to him, approaching slowly. He could see the blood flowing down Morgan's knuckles. "If you don't stop you're going to break something," he observed. "And I think brick is fairly pricy to replace," the younger man did his best to joke, knowing it was a futile attempt at best.

"Don't waste your breath, kid," Derek replied. His hand throbbed but he didn't really care. His thoughts shot back to a few days ago as he remembered standing in the same alley talking to Emily, trying to calm her down. He'd begged her not to give up on the Zanvil girls and she hadn't. Derek couldn't give up on Emily either. "I still don't believe she's dead."

"Is that why you're beating up an innocent wall? Because you don't believe it or because you're afraid to believe it?" Reid posed the difficult question.

Derek walked back and forth in front of Reid, cradling his bloody fist. "Wouldn't I feel different somehow, if she were really dead?" He stopped pacing and turned toward the alley's main entrance. Cars and people rushed by, going about their daily routines as if they had no idea that Emily had just been pronounced dead. Life went on the same as usual. Derek turned to Reid. "I don't feel different."

"Death isn't really something tangible that you can feel," Reid shrugged, again retreating to facts for comfort. But he diverted, his grief beginning to take over. "Although Emily did say she knew that her sister was already dead before she saw that picture of her. I never got a chance to talk to her about that."

Morgan shook his head. "I don't believe it," he finally answered Reid's question with conviction. "I don't."

xxx

The jet's interior was so quiet that Reid thought he might go stir-crazy. The echoes from past conversations they'd had on their flights came flooding back to him. That's when the laughter struck him. It was just a soft chuckle that he could keep inside at first, but it soon came bubbling up to the surface. JJ was the first to notice, as she was seated directly across from him. Rossi's head came up over the seat behind them to stare at him. Hotch too glanced across the aircraft to regard the young doctor.

Reid noticed them all staring at him and tried to stop. "I know laughing is an inappropriate response to death, it's just… sometimes the mind takes you places you'd really rather not go," he managed to sober a little. "I was just sitting here remembering… I was thinking about that time when we were on our way to a case and talking about embalming. I remember Emily saying that she wanted to be cremated…"

In the next instant, Reid's laughter dissolved and a tear rolled down his cheek in a rare show of emotion. JJ crossed over to the seat beside him. Her arms went around Reid and she held him close. "I think I'd rather be laughing," he whispered to her. Rossi and Hotch reclined in their seats again, lost in their own troubled thoughts.

Derek sat in the rear of the jet, his back to the others. He wore his headphones to drown out their voices, but he barely recognized that there was music coming through. His bandaged hand rested atop the cover of Emily's book, which sat on his lap. He'd taken it from her hotel room upon returning to Boston. It made him feel closer to her in some small way. His fingers lifted the cover and he read her sister's words again.

Morgan gazed at Erica's teenaged handwriting. He then pulled out the slip of paper he'd tucked inside the front cover. It was the note Emily had left him. He re-read her words a dozen times before placing the note back in her book and closing the cover. Derek stared at the beige bulkhead the rest of the short flight home.

xxx

Her funeral felt surreal to Derek. There were hundreds of people at the gravesite and he figured most of them were friends or dignitaries only there to pay their respects due to their connection to Emily's parents. The thing that bothered him most was that her mother had insisted on having a casket and a burial, even though there had not been enough of a body recovered for such things. They were essentially burying teeth, and it didn't feel right to him. The truth of the matter, though, was that a coffin made it feel more real to him. And he didn't want it to be real.

Garcia leaned against Kevin as she watched Derek, wishing there was some comfort she could lend him. JJ stood beside Garcia, holding Henry. Will was to her left with a comforting hand at her back. She knew it was an awful place to take such a small child, but she needed to hold him, to touch innocent life and know that the world wasn't half as cruel as she sometimes believed. Rossi and Hotch stood beside one another, both doing their best to present a strong front for their team.

Reid held a sheet of paper in one hand, wishing he hadn't been the one selected to speak. But looking down at Emily's coffin, he took his duty to heart. "I could stand here and tell you all a lot about the woman I came to know over the last three years. But a letter was delivered to our office yesterday that I think speaks louder than anything I could try to summarize for you about how Emily lived her life."

"Dear BAU team. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that you lost your friend and co-worker, Agent Emily Prentiss. When that bad man took my sister and me we prayed every day that someone would come for us. I watched him hit my sister and thought she was dead. He came after me too, but Emily stopped him before he could hurt me. I believe he would have killed me if she hadn't shown up that morning. Thank you for doing what you do every day, helping keep people like me and my sister safe. And thank you Emily for risking your life so that my sister and I can enjoy many more birthdays together. Sincerely, Jessica Zanvil."

Most of the crowd dispersed as the team approached her casket, one by one. "Be at peace, Emily," Rossi said as he placed one hand against the black coffin for a moment.

"The world feels a lot less awesome without you in it, my friend," Garcia whispered. "I promise to do my best to look out for you-know-who," Penelope added, glancing over at Derek again before she and Kevin moved off.

JJ shifted Henry to one side and laid a hand against the cool casket. "I hope you and your sister are together again," she whispered before Will ushered her along.

Hotch stood there for a moment, unsure what to say. She'd gone against his order to step down from the case, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. And, through it all, there was one thing that remained true. "It was an honor to serve with you," he finally said.

Reid stepped forward, the only one of them with a flower. He held a red rose in one hand, knowing it was typically a symbol of romantic love. But he'd brought it for her simply because he knew it was her favorite color. Spencer gently placed it on her coffin. "I never told my parents, but I always secretly wanted a sister. In my mind she was someone who was smart enough to keep me on my toes, just like you," he smiled for her. "I promise to keep working on that pact we made to be more conversational."

Derek watched as Reid walked away. Then it was just him and Emily's parents standing there. They both approached him. "Agent Morgan," the Ambassador looked very well put together and he didn't think he'd seen her shed a single tear. "I'd like you to meet my husband; Emily's father."

"Joseph Prentiss," the man introduced himself, extending his hand. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this. Emily talked about the BAU team like they were her family. I guess maybe you all were a better family to her than her mother and I have been. When I left for a while after Erica's death, Emily never really forgave me for that. We didn't handle Erica's death well, and Emily suffered the most for it."

Morgan shook the man's hand and could see that Erica had favored their father a little more than Emily. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances, sir."

"As do I," Joseph replied. He sensed that his wife wished to speak privately with the agent. "I'll meet you back at the car," he told her.

"Agent Morgan," she began. "I apologized to Agent Hotchner before the ceremony this morning. I told him also to please pass on my apology to the rest of your team. I had no right to be so upset at you all. You weren't to blame for this." She took a shaky breath. "My daughter mentioned you the morning we last talked. She was frantically pumping me for information about the Carlyle family, yet she sounded happier than I'd ever heard her before. Emily said you gave her a birthday gift, I guess it must have been something very special."

He couldn't help smile a little at that. His silver necklace was probably nothing compared to what the Ambassador could afford. But it had been heartfelt. "She liked it," was all he dared to say without fear of losing his calm exterior in front of Emily's mother.

"I don't know that I ever gave her another gift after that thirteenth birthday," Elizabeth admitted to him. "At least not one that mattered. I just couldn't face that day, remembering that I'd given birth to two beautiful little girls and then only having one of them."

"You should have tried harder," Derek responded with a note of accusation in his words.

She pressed her lips together like he'd seen Emily do a number of times to reign in her true feelings. "Have you ever lost a child?"

"No," he shook his head. "You lost Erica, and I am sorry for that. But you didn't lose Emily. You still had her in your life, and you should have taken better care of her. You should have showed her she was special all on her own, because she was." He gulped down the lump in his throat, hating that his betraying mind had spoken of Emily in the past tense. He looked the woman in the eye and saw sorrow that he wished to ease, the same as he had tried to ease Emily's. "I am very sorry for your loss, ma'am."

Ambassador Prentiss did something that surprised them both. She wrapped her arms around Derek. "Thank you for making her birthday special again," she whispered before pulling away and quickly heading toward her car.

Derek watched her for a few minutes until she was safely in her vehicle. He turned back to Emily's grave. "Everyone keeps talking about you like you're gone. They showed me coroner reports and put together this whole funeral for you. Even my head is starting to doubt that you're still out there somewhere, but…" He closed his eyes and could see the smile she'd given him on her birthday. There was still the promise of a bright future for them in that smile. "My heart hasn't betrayed me yet. I'm not ready to say goodbye to you."

xxx

Three days later, Derek sat at his desk in the bullpen. The files scattered in front of him all blurred into nonsense as he tried to concentrate. The team had yet to have a briefing since their return from Massachusetts. Hotch was giving them time to recoup, but Derek knew it would all start up again the same as usual. Slowly they would move forward and forget she'd ever been a part of their team. He couldn't stand it.

A rolling cart came to a halt beside his desk and Derek turned to find the mail guy dolling out bundles for everyone in the bullpen. Morgan took his and leafed through it. He spotted what he'd been waiting for and tore it open. Derek carefully read the papers and took a deep breath. He let the breath out and glanced over at Reid, seeing that the young man looked rather confused by an envelope in his hands. "What's up, kid?"

"Uh, this letter…" Reid held up a plain white, unassuming looking envelope. He noticed JJ strolling through the bullpen at that moment and called her over. "All of our mail is run through scanners, right? Because there's no return address on this and…"

JJ nodded. "Bureau mail is all gone over with a fine tooth comb," she assured him. "Maybe you should open it."

Reid nodded and carefully slit the envelope along one side. He read the short note inside. "It's uh… it's from Gideon," he finally revealed to them. "He says he heard about Emily on the news and just wanted to tell us all how sorry he is."

That was the last straw for Derek. He pushed away from his desk, grabbed the papers he'd just received and headed straight to Hotch's office. The Unit Chief sensed the conversation that was about to unfold and tried to counter it up front. "I know that you're our obsession crimes expert, but that doesn't make you infallible, Morgan. We couldn't have predicted his moves. We didn't even know this was about Emily until it was too late. You can't let this affect your work."

Morgan wanted to outright laugh in his bosses face. He managed to restrain himself. "I'm sorry, how is it that I'm not supposed to let it affect my work? We should have been there for her, Hotch. No matter what. This team let her down."

"We are all laying blame on ourselves for this," Hotch acknowledged. "Garcia because she didn't tell us sooner about what she and Emily had uncovered that morning. Reid because he told her Carlyle wouldn't go after her; even me, because I pulled her off the case. But you told Reid yourself that he shouldn't go down that road of laying blame, and you were right. That guilt will eat you up inside if you let it."

Derek couldn't deny that truth. He'd been the voice of reason on that matter several times over. "That's why I need to get away."

Hotch nodded. "I've done my best to keep us in a lull these last few days. I'd like to be able to grant everyone a few weeks off, but that's just not possible. But I can see about putting your annual leave on the docket sooner than planned."

"I mean more than a few weeks, Hotch, and I mean now." Derek handed over the papers he'd received a few minutes ago. "I applied for indefinite leave the second we got back from Boston. Strause signed off on it. I have up to a year to decide if I want to return. If I do come back within that time I can retain my job with no change in position or salary."

"I know what indefinite leave means, Derek, but I think it's a bad idea," Hotch told him outright.

Morgan shrugged. "Bad or not, it's the decision I've made. It's effective immediately. I'm going to talk to Garcia, but I'd appreciate it if you told the others."

Hotch sighed, watching the man seated before him. He wanted to ask a question that had been weighing on his mind for weeks. He'd tried to pretend that Morgan running off to spend time with Emily on her birthday had been the act of a good friend, but he worried it had been more. Now Derek's actions seemed to speak louder than any words of confirmation. Hotch knew that losing Haley or Jack would have very likely brought him to the same crossroads.

"Derek, do you still believe she's alive?"

"I'm not sure what I believe any more."

Hotch stood and shook Morgan's hand. "You have served this team in a way that could never be duplicated. The way you stepped up and took over as Unit Chief, how you helped me save Jack and Haley from the Reaper… I can never thank you enough for those things. Your absence from this team will be a great loss. More over, you will be missed, and I sincerely hope that you will return."

"Thank you," Derek replied.

He took his leave of Hotch's office and walked down the stairs into the bullpen. JJ and Reid were caught up in a quiet conversation and Morgan glanced at his desk. The things gathered there weren't important to him. He could return for them later, when the others were not about. Maybe that was a cowardice act, but it was how he wished to leave things for the time being. Only one person would never forgive him for not saying goodbye. He made his way to her office.

"I'm out of here, doll face," Morgan announced the instant he entered her sacred space within the BAU. He watched her spin around in her chair and smile up at him like he was the only person in the universe at that moment.

"Kind of early to be knocking off, isn't it?" she asked.

He shook his head and spoke just two words. "Indefinite leave."

She shot out of her chair and closed the gap between them. "No," Garcia replied, knowing exactly what that meant. "No, you can't do that."

"I let this team down," Morgan sighed. "And I need to clear my head."

"That's not what's eating at you." Penelope stood firm as she regarded him, thinking about the promise she'd made at Emily's grave. "You think you let Emily down, and you can't handle that because you loved her," She let the words fall out into the open for the first time. The look on his face was priceless. "Oh, please. It doesn't take a profiler to see how close you two became, almost right from the start. You loved her."

"Yeah, I did…" he couldn't deny it, and more importantly, he didn't want to. Derek had been the one to ask Emily to take things slow. Now he regretted that decision. "But if you start spouting off about how it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all," he shook his head and the muscle at his right temple throbbed while he clenched his teeth. "It's crap, baby girl. Because this feeling, _this feeling_," he pounded against his chest with a fist. "This is not better."

Garcia watched the single tear that rolled down his cheek. "Please don't cry," she tried to keep her voice even. "I swear I think I can handle just about anything, but seeing you cry will break my heart and it is already being held together by some very crumbly spackle at the moment." Penelope wanted to tell him so many things, that it would get better, that he would learn to go on without her… but none of it seemed right. "What will you do?"

"Go to Chicago, at least for a little while. Volunteer at the youth center. Work on some of my properties."

"And how am I supposed to get through the day here without you?" She was feeling a little selfish at the moment, though mostly she hoped it might change his mind. "You are the only thing that gets me through this madness. Who am I supposed to talk dirty too, Rossi and Reid?"

Morgan couldn't stop the small smile that she brought forth on his face. "I was thinking maybe Hotch," he suggested.

She chuckled at that. "You will call me," Garcia tapped his chest with her index finger. It wasn't a question but a demand. "Every day." He leaned in and kissed her forehead. Then he turned toward the door. When his hand was on the handle he heard her call to him. "Hey, Derek. You know I love you right?"

He nodded, keeping his back to her. "I love you too."

With that, Morgan slipped out of her lair and worked his way toward the bank of elevators. His phone rang just before he reached the sanctity of escape. Glancing down at the display he saw the screen flash: unknown name, unknown number. "Derek Morgan," he answered. There was silence on the other end. "Hello?" Derek waited a few more seconds as a very strange feeling slowly flooded over him. He looked over his shoulder before speaking the name that had come to mind. "Emily?" The call disconnected immediately after that.

Derek sighed, realizing he needed to get away from the place with the most memories of her. He stepped onto the elevator and took a last look around before the doors slid shut.

xxx

"Do you know where you are?"

Her head throbbed in pain and everything was dark, but she quickly realized that was because her eyes were closed. When she opened them and tried to gain her bearings, Emily could see the room was dark too. After a few minutes, though, she slowly started to make out a few shapes; the bed she was on, a small portable table and a dim lamp in the far left corner. Her head still ached something fierce, but her profiler mind kicked into high gear as she tried to assess the situation. The first thing she fully focused on was his face. "Andrew."

"Do you know where you are?" he repeated the question.

She shook her head, but stopped when her eyesight went blurry. "No," Emily answered with a word instead. She tried to reach up and massage the aching spot on her head, but quickly discovered that she was restrained at both wrists, as well as both ankles.

"You don't remember anything about how we got here?"

"No, my head is…"

Andrew lifted the bandage on her head. He carefully examined the gash along the left side of her face, which he'd stitched up. "I figured rendering you unconscious was the best way to get you away from the marina without the risk of you calling out to anyone. I couldn't have that, not after all the trouble I went through to arrange our meeting."

"You used my gun; you set fire to the building." Small memories were finally falling into place for her. But there was still so much she couldn't recall. "How did we get out?"

"I burned it to the ground," he spoke of the old building. "But you didn't think I'd risk us burning in that fire, did you? Did you underestimate my capabilities?"

Emily knew then that she and the team had indeed underestimated him, thinking he was only an obsessed killer. She never could have guessed the true depth of his criminal nature. "I have no idea what you're capable of," Emily revealed, speaking the truth.

"You'll find out," Andrew seemed excited by the infinite prospects of that statement. He got up and walked across the room, grabbed something off the table and was back at her side a moment later. "I thought it would be nice for us to reminisce now that we're back together."

"About what?" She asked, looking down at what appeared to be a photo album in his hands. Emily tried to sit up, but remembered that she was restrained, lashed to the iron rails at the foot and head of the bed. She hated that her mind was still so foggy.

Andrew opened the photo album and held it up for her to see. "Here we are together at your Yale commencement."

She looked at the picture and recognized the suited figure beside her. It was her father, except his face had been covered with a photo of Carlyle. "You weren't there that day."

"Of course I was," he flipped the page. "Do you remember our wedding day?"

Emily noted that some of the pictures were clearly of him and a dark haired woman in a wedding dress. Others were close ups that she could tell had been morphed to add her face on top of the other woman's. Her stomach churned, starting to realize the depths of his skewed mental state. "It looks like a nice ceremony," she told him. "But I'm not your wife, Andrew. Where is your real wife?"

He slammed the book shut and glared at her. "Nice try," he growled. "We _are_ married, but I see I need to remind you of your vows; to love, honor and obey. We'll start with a fairly easy lesson of obedience." He put the album away and held a cell phone in one hand. "You get to make a call, to anyone you like. All you have to do is give me a number."

Emily didn't even think it over as the sequence of numbers rolled off her tongue. She watched him write them on a slip of paper. "You're really going to let me make a call?" Emily couldn't make sense of his reasoning. She feared her head was still too concussed to be hearing things right.

"Yes," he agreed. "Your number. My rules, though. You can't say a word. And since this is our first lesson, I'm going to have to take precautions and tape your mouth shut so you stay quiet." A few seconds later he smoothed a piece of thick duct tape over her mouth. Then he dialed the number and hit speaker so he could listen as well.

"_Derek Morgan,"_ the voice on the other line answered. There was a brief pause. _"Hello?"_ Another longer pause followed and then he spoke again. _"Emily?"_

Her eyes grew wide as she watched Andrew end the call and throw the phone across the room. It hit the wall, shattered into several pieces and fell to the floor. "You profilers are much better than I gave you credit for. He suspected it was you without even hearing your voice. And I can see how much that affected you. All the better to facilitate my love, honor and obey lessons." He ripped the tape from her mouth.

"You murdered my sister!" she spat, giving up on niceties for the moment. "I will never love, honor or obey you!"

Andrew remained calm, not riled by her declaration. "You will. And when you gain my trust, I will let you speak to him. For now, though, there are many other lessons to learn. Let's try another, shall we?" he picked up something else from atop the table. "Actually, I tried to teach you this lesson before, but writing it on your sister's back didn't seem to work very well. Maybe it will sink in better if I write it on your back," he moved toward her.

The way in which he'd fastened her to the bed allowed him to easily flip her onto her stomach without untying her. Emily figured he'd probably used some sort of pivoting devices to run the ropes through. She had to focus on something other than the fact that she was completely vulnerable to him at the moment, as he pushed her shirt up over her head. Emily was willing to endure whatever she had to, in order to keep him from hurting anyone else. She wouldn't be his victim, though, at least not in her mind.

"You will never be safe," he whispered the words he was about to carve into her flesh.

She didn't cry out, though the pain was immense. Emily wouldn't give him an ounce of satisfaction. Instead, she focused on the one thing she had left. She felt the cool touch of her necklace as it pressed against her chest. Emily thanked whatever force had caused him to leave the item around her neck, thinking maybe he couldn't identify her without having a necklace on. Whatever the reason, she thought about the message Derek had engraved into that piece of silver. And as Andrew carved into her back, the way he'd done to her sister twenty-five years ago; she knew she could not fight the man alone.

Emily prayed that Derek would remember his promise to always be there for her.

* * *

**To be continued…**

Due to the fact that Christmas, my birthday and New Years are all rolled into one week, this story may not be updated until after the first of the year. Happy Holidays!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and especially for being patient between these parts. Thanks also for your birthday and holiday wishes. Happy New Year!

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 7

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Derek had the upper half of his body stuffed into the cabinet under the kitchen sink. His arms were stretched over his head where he could barely see. And water dripped persistently as he tried to find the source of the leak. "Anything new to report, baby girl?" he asked, shooting his voice down toward the cell phone that he had on speaker. A second later, the wrench in his hands slipped and hit him on the head. "Damn!"

Garcia heard the loud clang. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to unscrew this…"

"That's your first mistake, darling," she stopped him. "Never unscrew…" Penelope teased. "The ladies don't like that."

The groan that escaped his mouth was not due to a sore head, but her comment. Retrieving the wrench, Derek tried to reach the pesky drain pipe again. "Have you checked out all the Jane Doe's for me this week?" he swiftly changed the subject, getting back to the real reason he'd called.

"You know I have, every week for the last six months. I even got a few hopefuls this week but they didn't pan out." Garcia wasn't sure if she was helping her friend or hindering him. She wasn't even sure what she believed in regard to Emily's death, but Penelope believed in Derek Morgan with all her heart and would support him through anything.

"I keep getting those phone calls, anything traceable?"

"Nope, sorry," again she was the voice of disappointment. "The calls always end too soon."

His sigh was thick with the knowledge of having no leads to follow for six months. But as much as Derek tried to let go of Emily, he couldn't. "How's the rest of the team?"

"Getting by," she replied. "Reid came into my office the other day and we talked for almost an hour about, well, nothing important really. It was odd, in a good way; he didn't state facts or make any comments that seemed overly genius. I think our little boy is finally growing up," she joked. Garcia heard Derek's chuckle on the other end and was glad for it. "You should call him, though. He says you haven't made contact in almost two weeks."

Derek finally felt some give in the connection he was trying to loosen. He spun the wrench around several times as he answered. "I know, doll, I've been busy here. Lots of ball games to organize at the youth center and about a million things to fix on that old duplex I'm renovating. Right now I'm working on my mom's place, always something to do." Derek always had an excuse to give too.

"Well, find the time," she scolded. "I need to get back to my real job, the team is about to land in Oregon," Penelope let him know. "Derek, are you ever coming back?" Garcia asked the same question at the end of every conversation, which was not every day like she'd demanded, but at least twice a week and sometimes more.

"I don't know, baby girl. I'll talk to you later," he ended the call quickly, stabbing the button with the handle of his wrench.

"I think she's right," Fran Morgan called down to her son, tapping the bottom of his shoe with her smaller foot. "It's time for you to get back to work."

Morgan sat the wrench down and grabbed his phone as he shimmied out from under the sink. He stood up and leaned against the counter, facing his mother. The cell was placed on the Formica counter as he dried his hands with a towel. "I've been working all morning," Derek motioned toward the sink.

"You know what I mean," his mother replied. "I could replace that leaky pipe myself if I wanted to. Who do you think does it when you're not around?" she asked, flashing a playful smile his way. But her face turned serious again, as did her words. "I love having you here and so do your sisters. But you still talk to that team of yours every week, because you miss being there, you miss the job." Fran sighed. "When you first told me you wanted to be a cop, all I could think about was what happened to your father."

Derek reached out and cupped his mother's cheek. "I'm sorry for that."

She smiled. "I know you are. It took me a while to see that you were meant to follow in his footsteps," Fran admitted. "Even though I hate it most days, the job you do is important, and you are very good at it. I also understand that losing Emily was a huge blow. You never got to tell her that you loved her."

"Mom, how…" he was surprised by her words.

Fran grinned as she shook her head. "A mother knows these things. You talk about her almost every day," she pointed out. "I've never known you to talk about a woman so often, not even those related to you." She wrapped her arms around Derek and held him close. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this, but it's time to live your life again. I didn't know Emily very well, other than that one meeting, but I don't think she'd want you to go on like this either."

He knew his mother was right. Emily would have been the first to kick his ass into gear had it been anyone else lost that day at the marina. Derek loved being at the youth center and working on his properties. He also loved being close to his family again, but he still felt incomplete being away from the BAU. There was no way he'd ever stop searching for Emily, but that could be done just as easily from within the BAU.

"Maybe you're right," he finally admitted. "Maybe it's time to go home."

xxx

Three days later, Derek sat at his old desk in the bullpen waiting for the team to return from Oregon. He'd gone straight to Strauss who signed his return, though it would still be subject to Hotch's final approval to rejoin the team. Strauss assured him he could be placed on another team if Hotch didn't welcome him back, but they were both fairly certain that wouldn't be the case. Morgan knew the team had landed and was on their way back to the office, due to Garcia's play-by-play account. He sat and waited.

His cell rang and Derek figured it was Penelope with another, up-to-the-minute, report on the team's whereabouts. But when he answered, Derek was greeted by the same silence as a couple dozen other calls that he'd received since Emily's accident. He sucked in a breath as he waited for a moment before making a final decision. "Whoever you are, I'm really sick of this little game you're playing. I'm going to have to get a new phone number because of all this."

"_No!"_

Derek's blood felt like it had turned to ice as a chill ran up and down his spine. The call ended abruptly after that one word had been shouted over the line. He stared at the device in his hands as if he'd just seen a ghost, or rather, had just heard one. He pushed away from his desk, chair sailing backwards as he jumped to his feet and dashed to Garcia's office. He burst through her door without as much as a knock. "Tell me you got that!" his anxious voice called out.

"I did," her voice was unmistakably shaken as she typed frantically at her keyboard. "Damn it!" It was unusual for the analyst to get so worked up, but this was a matter more serious than most of the cases that crossed their paths. "The cell did the same thing as always, bounced around a few towers but ended too soon. I lost it," Garcia shook her head.

"But the voice, that word…" Derek clung to hope with all of his being. "You recorded that?"

She nodded. With three key strokes, the voice came over the speakers on her computer. _"No!"_ Garcia backed it up and replayed it several more times. _"No!"_ The undeniably female voice cried out, over and over as they listened. _"No!"_

"It's her, isn't it?" Derek looked to Garcia for confirmation.

The blonde, who was currently sporting blue streaks in her hair, had a tear welling in her left eye. "It certainly sounds like her, but…" she wasn't quite ready yet to let herself believe it, mostly because she didn't want to get Derek's hopes up only to have to dash them later. "I can run it through voice recognition software. I'm sure I have Emily's voice on something in the archives. Matching one word is going to be tricky, though."

He nodded, knowing she was being cautious, partly because it was her job, but mostly for his sake. "I know you'll do your best."

"Derek," she hesitantly addressed him. "You know we could both lose our jobs for doing this. Maybe we should go to Hotch right now with what we have."

"We don't have enough yet," Morgan shook his head. "And I'd risk losing a dozen jobs for Emily's sake."

She nodded. "So would I," Penelope supported her friend.

xxx

Andrew backhanded her. "Did I say you could speak to him?" he asked.

Emily hardly blinked as his hand had connected with her cheek. She'd grown use to his violent strikes. It seemed to make him feel better, like he was in control. Just another piece of the profile she had been building in her head for the last… well, she couldn't be sure how long it was he'd had her tied up in his dungeon room. Emily closed her eyes as she mentally tried to calculate all the injuries he'd inflicted upon her. Mostly there were random bruises where he manhandled her on the way to the bathroom. Then there was her back.

Every few weeks he liked to re-carve the message in her back. The very second she started to feel the soreness leave her aching muscles seemed to be the exact moment in which he returned to slice through layers of scar tissue. It was another piece of the profile she kept going over in her mind. Verbal and physical abuse coupled with his strange desire to break her down into a willing wife. Emily tried her best to reason out the profile, but she never seemed to get far. None of it made sense to her.

Another smack sent a small sting along her nerve endings. She reopened her eyes and stared blankly up at him. "I asked you a question," he growled.

"I did you a favor," she replied in a weary voice. Part of his abuse was the withholding of proper nutrients. He kept her fed and hydrated just enough to keep her alive. Emily knew it was a smart method of breaking down a person's defenses. But she wasn't just anyone and she wouldn't break for him, no matter how he tried. Because she had something on her side that she didn't think he had any clue about. Derek's promise kept her going when she probably should have given up hope a long time ago.

"How is that?" he asked.

She drew forth a small smile, in an attempt to placate him. Emily then added words to the gesture. "He threatened to disconnect his phone number. I knew if he did that you'd have to start all over with this phase of your lessons. So, I asked him not to."

Andrew moved away from her, his features smoothing out into a calmer stance. "You're finally coming around." He grinned. "Perhaps it's time to move my plan forward?"

Emily didn't know what that meant, but if it entailed her being able to keep hearing Derek's voice then she'd gladly continue to play along. There had to be some way to get a message to Morgan that Carlyle wouldn't be able to pick up on. She just needed to figure out what that was.

xxx

The team welcomed Derek back into the fold, but things were tense for him that first day. He learned that there had briefly been a new member added to their team, a young man by the name of Dylan Matheson. He'd been a little too young in the end. Even graduating at the top of his class, studying behavioral science and working for seven years as an agent hadn't fully prepared him for the kind of work they did at the BAU. It just wasn't for everyone. Needless to say, the team had been severely short handed, and Derek felt guilty.

Day two found Morgan on his first case after a six month leave. He was surprised by how eager he was to jump right back into the thick of things, even as Garcia had secretly given him the results of the voice analysis she'd performed on his call. The tech had proved an eighty-seven percent voice match for Emily Prentiss. That was a pretty solid lead that only served to buoy Morgan's efforts. He'd be much better prepared for the next call. In the meantime, though it was killing him to sit tight, he did his job the best he could.

Four days later the team returned from Albuquerque and Derek was so tired he could barely see straight. He slept for twelve hours straight that night and strode into the bullpen the next day at nine-thirty. With a half hour until their daily conference, Derek wandered to Garcia's lair and found Reid there chatting up their favorite computer whiz. The all exchanged morning pleasantries just before Derek's phone rang.

The ring always caused him pause, and when he spotted the familiar: unknown name and unknown number message, Morgan answered. "Emily?" he decided to go for broke, trying to talk to her directly if it was her again. He noticed that Reid and Garcia immediately shut up and turned their attention his way, though Penelope did check that the recording device linked to Derek's line was doing its job.

"Emily, I understand if you can't say anything. But if you can, please talk to me. Just let me know you're alive," Morgan knew he was pleading, but he really didn't care. He'd already gone up and down the grief and denial rollercoaster enough times to realize he had nothing to lose. "Please talk to me, Emily."

A heavy silence filled the line, but then it broke with a crystal clarity that spun Derek's world on end. _"You will never be safe."_

It wasn't just wishful thinking any more. Derek knew her voice well enough to know it was her, though she sounded distant; tired maybe. "Emily, keep talking." Those revealing words garnered wide-eyed looks from Reid and Garcia. "You will be safe, I promise. Just tell me where you are and I will be there in a heartbeat," he vowed.

"_You will never be safe,"_ her soft voice whispered the words again.

The line went dead and Derek turned around to face Penelope. "Did you get a trace?"

She pursed her lips, not wanting to disappoint him yet again, but she could only speak the truth. "It wasn't long enough." Penelope gazed up at him. "She spoke to you, didn't she?"

"Yes," he nodded, pointing to her keyboard. "Play it back."

Garcia didn't need to be asked twice. Her fingers danced over the keys and brought the recording up in a matter of seconds. _"You will never be safe."_ Hearing it for themselves, Reid and Penelope were both elated. When she repeated the words, their momentary joy turned to icy fear. The tone and inflection of Emily's voice was raw, nearly defeated.

"Hey guys?" JJ called to them from the slightly opened door to Garcia's office.

The three people inside nearly jumped and turned to face the young liaison. "What… uh, what do you want, JJ?" Reid nervously asked.

JJ furrowed her brow a little. "Conference is in five minutes," she reminded them.

"We'll be there," Derek kept a calm exterior even as he was faced with the news that Emily was indeed alive. His heart had never doubted the fact, but actual proof was causing his head to spin. He watched as Reid followed JJ out of Garcia's office, but Morgan stayed behind for a second longer. He eyed his friend.

"I'll run it though everything I've got," Garcia assured him.

Derek nodded and made his way to the conference room, hoping he'd be able to focus on anything other than the echo of Emily's voice in his head.

xxx

Two and a half hours later the team had gone over three potential cases only to discover that none of them was a plausible undertaking at the moment. One jurisdiction had failed to contact them directly as of yet. Another case was bogged down in a political battle that had the mayor of the city keeping things under wraps until elections were held. A third case involved one of the families suing the city for negligence, which had put a halt to the whole investigation.

Normally Hotch would have told JJ to call them back as soon as she had a valid case, but after their last outing, he figured the team could use a day of rest, meaning paperwork. Hotch was just about to dismiss them all when Morgan decided to pick that moment to unburden him self. "I have a case for us," he declared as Reid glared at him. The younger man shook his head, trying to stop his friend, but Derek persisted. "It's a kidnapping."

Hotch eyed JJ for a moment, but when he saw the confused look on her face, he returned his attention to Derek. "What case is this?"

"It's…" Morgan sighed. "I think Garcia should be called in for this. There's something you all need to hear."

The Unit Chief shot Derek a glare that let him know he didn't like surprises. But he nodded his ascension, giving the man a short leash. "Get her in here."

Garcia arrived within ten minutes and quickly set up her laptop in the conference room. Derek had been a little bit cryptic in his call to her but she'd gotten the basic idea, realizing that he'd finally spilled the beans to Hotch about what they'd been up to. But when she arrived, she realized that Hotch, Rossi and JJ were still very much in the dark. So she played the first recording for them.

"_No!"_

"What the hell was that?" Rossi asked, looking around the room for an answer.

Hotch felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Morgan, explain."

They all knew that the fewer words their boss used, the more upset he really was. Derek did his best to explain about the phone calls he'd been receiving since shortly after Emily's supposed death. "Last week I got that call," he indicated the one they had just heard. "Garcia gave me an eighty-seven percent voice match on it to Emily's. And before you say anything about that, listen to the one I just got this morning." He motioned for Garcia to play it.

Derek's voice could be heard for a few seconds and then the other voice joined in, _"You will never be safe."_ They all listened as she repeated the words. The message itself was one they'd heard before when Emily had told them about her sister's death.

"I got a 99.99 percent voice recognition match for Emily on that one," Garcia revealed.

"Emily is alive?" JJ asked.

Hotch saw the same question flicker past Rossi's eyes as well. He could see that the other three were already in cahoots on the matter. "This is not proof," he spoke up. "It could be a recording of some sort."

"To what end, Hotch?" Morgan asked. "Why would someone do that to me?"

Aaron Hotchner had no real answer, except that he'd seen the reports of Emily's death and could not deny the stated facts. "I have no idea, but Emily is dead." He faced the man who had once taken over as team leader for him. "Maybe you came back too soon," he gently informed Derek. "I think another leave of absence may be in order."

"No!" Derek jumped to his feet. "No way," he shook his head. "Don't you dare tell me this is all some figment of my imagination, you heard her! Tell me you didn't just hear her?"

"I heard a voice that sounded a lot like Emily, yes," Hotch agreed. "But I also read that coroner's report that confirmed one of the bodies in that fire was her. And that evidence speaks louder for me."

Derek stood there, open mouthed. "We're profilers, Hotch. We don't use evidence to track killers, we use behavior. We get in their heads to figure them out."

"So now you want me to think, what?" the team leader asked. "You want me to believe that this coroner was in on Carlyle's plot to kidnap Emily?"

Reid listened as the two men raised their voices, both with valid points, though Derek was clearly more emotionally involved. He hated taking sides in arguments, remembering how he'd felt as a child listening to his parents fighting. But he needed to do something to slice the tension in the air, and a thought sprang to mind as Hotch spoke about the coroner's report. "Carlyle was an orthodontist," he spoke up. "He had means of getting dental records, didn't he?"

The question hung in the air around them and simmered in all their heads. "You think he could have altered Emily's dental charts to resemble someone else's?" Rossi posed the frightening possibility that Reid had just set in motion; a possibility that none of them had thought of before.

"So the guy's an orthodontist and oral surgeon by day, computer hacker by night?" JJ asked, adding to what had already been thrown out there. "That's a bit far fetched, isn't it?"

"Maybe not," Penelope jumped in. "He has the means to gain dental information from patients. What if he simply called up Emily's dentist and asked for the records to be sent to him?"

Hotch watched Morgan, who remained quiet as the others started to roll with the idea. "Is that possible?" he finally asked. "Wouldn't Emily have to make the request herself or give some kind of consent, at the very least sign something?"

"Legally, he'd need a signed release form from Emily, yes," Garcia replied.

"This guy was stalking Emily for years without her realizing it," Rossi pointed out. "Those pictures we found that he had of her at graduations and other events… I don't think it's so far out of the realm of possibility that this guy could have faked a release form."

Morgan put his faith in Rossi for a moment. "So, you believe it's possible. You're open to the idea that Emily is still alive?"

Rossi looked to Hotch and then to Morgan. "I am."

"And the bodies that burned in that fire?" Hotch wasn't sure what was going on, but he continued to play devil's advocate in their little charade.

"Could have been two victims we never knew about," Morgan supplied the easiest answer.

Hotch was still on the defensive. "The pelvic bones recovered at the marina fire were male and female. That doesn't fit his MO."

"So he changed his MO once to accomplish the task of getting Emily," Derek countered.

The Unit Chief could see that Morgan was likely to have an answer for everything he threw at the agent. He posed two more questions that would be harder to answer. "Let's say he did do all of this to get her; killed a man and woman as well as altered dental records. But how did he get Emily away from that site without us seeing them? And why is he letting her make these calls?"

Derek was finally stumped on the question of how they escaped. He focused on the second inquire instead. "Maybe he doesn't know about the calls, maybe she's doing it on her own?" His stomach twisted into a knot as he spoke. "We all know that Emily would do anything to keep him from hurting anyone else because of her. So what if she's… what if she agreed to stay with him if he agreed to stop the killings? What if she's just calling to hear a voice from her past?"

"Son of a bitch," Rossi swore under his breath. He, Garcia and JJ seemed to think it was a possibility. Even Hotch was starting to let the idea take root in his mind.

"No way," Reid was the one to discount Derek's theory. "Even if she did that initially, made that agreement with him, which I think is possible," he did admit to that much. "If she gained his trust enough to be making phone calls she would have found a way out by now. Emily is a fighter. She would have gotten a knife, anything to subdue him and get away. She would not stay with him if she could kill or detain him."

Hotch could definitely agree with that, as could Morgan. "Then she needs our help," Derek concluded. He stared Hotch in the eye. "Give me one week," Morgan pleaded his case. "The calls come once a week. If she doesn't call back in one week's time and I haven't uncovered anything else, I will walk away."

"From the belief that she's alive?" Hotch questioned.

"No," Derek shook his head. "From the team. I'll go out on my own and find her," he declared.

Hotch really wasn't sure what to believe, but he had faith in Derek. "One week," he agreed, glancing around the room. "If any of you wish to help him, be sure it's on your own time. And if any new case comes up this week we will be taking it," the man made himself clear and was satisfied with the nods he got from around the room. He was almost certain that they'd all be on the case. A small part of him hoped they would be.

xxx

A long case in Colorado Springs left Derek and the others precious little time in Hotch's one week deadline, but they weren't ready to give up yet. They had one day left. It was well past midnight as Derek sat slumped over in a chair beside Garcia. They'd been holed up in her office for hours since the official end to their work day. Reid was asleep in another chair to their left. They let him get some rest.

"Finally," Penelope sat up a little straighter as her computer chirped. "I managed to crack open some financial history on Carlyle."

"What is it?" Derek sat up too, fully alert.

She whistled appreciatively. "That is some serious life insurance money," Penelope gaped at the dollar amounts on her screen. "Carlyle got one million each for his wife and daughter. I can't find any record that it was deposited into an account. I imagine he took it in cash, anticipating that he'd be able to get to Emily and spirit her away. I'd say that's enough money to live on for quite a few years, longer if you live real simply."

"Probably a lot longer if you moved to a small town where nobody knows you," Reid spoke up, revealing that he was awake. "A place where you could pretend a woman was your wife without anyone checking on your story," he relayed the idea to his friends. "He'll probably keep up his profession, though, so no one suspects where his wealth comes from. The only way he can practice is with a valid license. It would have to be under his real name, unless he's a master of aliases, which is doubtful."

"So, what do you propose, I start a search for every Andrew Carlyle in the United States?" Garcia asked, mockingly.

"Yes," Derek answered with utmost sincerity.

The woman nodded. "Of course, why didn't I think of that sooner?" It really was a good idea. She had to hope it was sleep deprivation that was muddling her mind. Kevin had called her every night that week wanting to meet for dinner or rendezvous at her place, but she'd had to disappoint him every time in favor of helping Derek out. Kevin said he understood and she truly hoped he did. Another alarm beeped on her computer and she checked it out. "Wow, I did not expect to find that."

"What?" Both Derek and Reid asked.

Penelope tapped a few more keys. "I've been running this enhancement program on Emily's call and I… there's a second voice." She pulled on a pair of headphones and listened, fending off Derek and Reid's questioning eyes. "It sounds like a male voice… Carlyle… it's got to be him." Garcia tore off the listening devise.

"Put it on speaker." Morgan and Reid listened to the words that were still rather garbled, but clearly not Emily's voice. "What's he saying?" Derek asked.

"The headphones make it clearer," Garcia informed them. "But he's saying the same thing she is, just a few seconds before."

"He's prompting her," Reid stated.

She nodded. "I think so, yes."

Morgan sighed, feeling rather unsettled by that revelation. He tried to latch on to something more positive. "Then it's not a recording?"

"No, I highly doubt it," Penelope replied. "It flows. If someone was trying to piece together random bits of recorded words they had of her voice it would not be this seamless, I don't care how good you are. And the added confirmation of this male voice in the background leads me to believe that this is no joke, gentlemen."

"It doesn't make sense, though; she'd never be taken in by him. He killed her sister," Derek needlessly reminded them. "She should be trying to tell us something more on these phone calls," he insisted.

Reid paced across the small space behind them, stretching his tired and cramped legs. "He's using classical brainwashing techniques on her and it seems to be working. The calls are a way to show her that she has no hope of escape."

"She would not give in to this guy," Morgan turned to face the young genius. "You said so yourself just a few days ago. Emily is a fighter."

The younger man quirked his lips to one side. "Did you know that if a person is surrounded by total darkness they can go completely blind in a matter of only a few weeks?" he didn't leave the question open for answer, speedily continuing. "And they'll never regain that sight."

Derek glared at his friend. "Reid, I thought you were on my side, man."

Reid stopped pacing. "Morgan, I am on your side. And I do believe that Emily is a fighter. But we all know there have been documented cases of Stockholm syndrome occurring in as little as four weeks. She's been with Carlyle for six months."

"Emily is stronger than most people," Derek maintained.

"Even the strongest people have a breaking point," Reid noted, recalling those dark days when he'd been taken by Tobias Henkel. That experience had changed his whole life, tipping it on its side for a long time as he'd struggled to recover and deal with his resultant drug addiction.

Garcia sucked in a breath and then let it out in a deep sigh that seemed to come from the recesses of her belly. "Oh, this is not even…" she trailed off. "I've been sifting through his financial records some more and he was executer of his parent's estate."

"The youngest son was executer?" Reid questioned.

"That is odd," Morgan noted. "But we've tried to contact his brother's this week and neither one will return our phone calls. I'd say there might be some animosity there."

"This goes beyond animosity," Penelope replied. "David and Matthew Carlyle were in the process of suing their little brother at the time of his death." She paused a moment. "I think I might be sick. They claim he'd been extorting money from their parent's estate long before their deaths a year and a half ago. That's not the creepiest thing Mr. Creepy did, though. Apparently he didn't like the plot his parents picked to be buried in, so he picked one of his own. Only, he wouldn't tell his brother's where he buried them."

Derek's mind whirled ahead. "Because he never actually buried them."

"Meaning?" Reid wasn't quite as far along as his friend.

"What do you want to bet me Carlyle's parents are the ones that burned in that fire?"

Penelope visibly shivered at the possibility. "We need to take this to Hotch."

Morgan shook his head. "Not yet, besides it's the middle of the night." He knew that even Hotch occasionally got some sleep, which meant they had until morning. "Garcia, I need you to track down Emily's last known dentist and pull her records, see if they match the coroner's report. Get his parent's dental records too. Hack into Carlyle's practice if you have to. Or we can call Dr. Le first thing in the morning. I want to run every dental record we can on those bodies."

"And sleep?" Reid asked.

"I can sleep when I'm dead, how about you two?" Derek asked.

"I've got nothing better to do," Garcia replied.

Reid shook his head. "Me either.

xxx

Morgan sat on his hands, almost literally, as JJ went over the briefing on their new case. Angela Benson, age twenty-nine, had been taken from her home. Her boyfriend had been shot and killed at the house and that was about three hours ago in the early morning. A ransom note had been left, demanding half a million dollars. They all knew that kidnapping cases needed to follow a much faster pace, due to the fact that most abductees were killed within the first thirty-six hours.

Derek finally knew, without a doubt, that Emily was alive after over six months of being held by Andrew Carlyle. He couldn't remain quiet any longer, even with a pressing case. "He has her," Morgan blurted out. All heads turned his way and he took a deep breath. Derek's eyes went from Garcia to Reid. Secure that the two of them had his back he launched into an explanation of everything they had discovered.

"So his parent's dead bodies were the ones who burned in that fire?" Rossi asked after all the evidence had been laid out. "You're certain of that?"

Garcia nodded. "I talked to Dr. Le this morning. He's been dealing with the aftermath of Carlyle's deeds, some nasty mal-practice suits. I convinced him to allow me access to Carlyle's computer files. He did a decent job of covering his tracks, but I'm better," she grinned. "Dr. Creepy unwittingly left me some cyber breadcrumbs. He requested Emily's dental files and switched her chart with his mothers, then swapped his and his fathers. It's them alright, one hundred percent sure. Carlyle and Emily did not burn in that fire."

"Then how did he get Emily out of there?" JJ asked. "We know she and he were both inside due to Jessica Zanvil's statement, and both their vehicles were left behind."

"Jessica stated that he didn't have a weapon," Rossi picked up. "We can assume that Carlyle had to have started that fire, most likely using Emily's gun which he got away from her somehow. But where did they go? You don't just vanish like that."

Reid was about to offer an explanation. "Maybe…" but was cut off by the ringing of Derek's phone.

The whole room fell silent as Morgan glanced at the screen. He said nothing, but nodded his head in Garcia's direction. She nodded back, letting him know her tracking system was in place and ready. He hit the speaker phone button and answered the call. "Emily? Are you there?"

"_You will never be safe."_

Even Hotch couldn't deny that it sounded exactly like her on the other line. "Emily, are you alright?" Derek asked. He knew it was a stupid question but he needed to find some way to keep her on the line. "Talk to me, tell me something, anything you can," he gently prodded her, knowing that Carlyle was probably right beside her. But he still hoped that she might be able to give him a coded message of some sort.

"_You will never be safe."_

"That's not true!" Morgan lost it for a split-second. He took a quick calming breath. "Emily, listen to me. What he's telling you, it's not true. You'll be safe again, I promise. Just talk to me." They all waited, hope in their hearts and fear in the pit of their stomachs. She did speak again, but it sounded like nothing more than gibberish to all of their ears. Then the call ended, seeming to cut her off.

Garcia shook her head when they all turned to her with questioning eyes. "I almost had something, but…" she shrugged.

"What the hell was that at the end?" Rossi asked.

"I think…" Reid remembered the very first case he'd worked with Emily on after her arrival to the BAU. They'd gone to Guantanamo Bay with Gideon to question a prisoner. It was then that Emily had impressed them all with her language skills. "I'm pretty sure she was speaking Arabic," he finally told them.

"That actually makes a lot of sense," JJ responded. "We all know that Carlyle attended private schools and received a Harvard education, but even with all of that it's doubtful he speaks or even understands Arabic," she concluded.

"Which means she's trying to tell us something," Hotch realized.

Morgan looked to Garcia and probably didn't even need to say the words that rolled off his tongue. "Get a translator up here, now!"

xxx

"What did you tell him?" Andrew stood over her holding the cell phone in one hand and the disconnected battery in his other.

She took a breath. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

Carlyle was not amused. "You do know. Those words at the end of the call, I didn't tell you to say that. I don't even know what language that was."

Emily maintained her position. She closed her eyes and moaned for added drama. "I don't know what I'm saying half the time," her voice quaked, which was not something she'd planned. Some of her discomfort was faked, but some was genuine. "You barely feed me and I haven't seen sunlight in… I don't know how long. I'm too weak to even walk to the bathroom on my own anymore, and this place feels like the walls are closing in on me. I'm delusional half the time and can't be held responsible for whatever nonsense comes out of my mouth."

He watched her for a while longer and seemed content with her answer. A cup filled with water was proffered to her lips a few minutes later and Emily drank it too fast, so eager for the liquid. It made her empty stomach sick, but she tried to hide her discomfort. When he flipped her onto her stomach again, she closed her eyes in preparation for what was to come. The shirt she'd been wearing had long ago turned to a rag and was discarded. Emily had resigned herself to being naked from the waist up. It didn't really bother her any more.

At least he had never tried to do anything more to her than physical abuse. She couldn't be sure, but Emily suspected that as far as sex was concerned he wanted a willing partner, a wife and a bond that was sanctified by marriage. As long as there was even the smallest amount of fight left in her, Emily would not pander to that desire. When she felt the last knife stroke, Emily was relieved. She had come to realize that he repeated this process of his lesson when he was about to leave for a while.

Andrew did something new this time, though. He placed the cell phone down on the bed beside her. The battery was placed about a foot away, but also on the bed within her sight. "I have to go now," he whispered in her ear. "If you need anything, all you have to do is reconnect the battery and make a call." His laughter filled the room and echoed off the concrete walls as she heard the door lock and his footsteps recede.

She knew he'd left the phone as a test, or more as a taunt, but Emily took it as a challenge. Her left hand was closest to the two items near the head of the bed, but still might as well have been an ocean's distance apart. As hard as she stretched, Emily couldn't reach either one. However, Emily discovered that she could stretch herself enough to get her mouth into contact with the rope around her wrist. It was a thick rope, but her determination was greater.

Emily hoped her message would get through to Derek and the BAU team. If not, she needed a back-up plan. Her teeth took hold of the rope and she began to gnaw on it.

xxx

The translator was a young man with dark hair. He looked very business-like and had arrived within an hour. His attention was grabbed by the recorded voice, but he seemed surprised when it ended. "That's all?" He glanced at Garcia and watched her head nod. "Well, it's Arabic all right, but just a series of words that don't seem to fit together. She says: dark, cold, leaves, home and tired," he relayed.

"The words obviously mean something to her," Derek's spirit was lifted, realizing she had been communicating with them.

"Unless she's too out of it to be thinking straight," Reid countered.

Garcia shook her head. "She's with it enough to be speaking Arabic," the woman pointed out.

Reid responded again with a less than helpful comment. "People have been known to speak foreign languages on their death beds, without any prior knowledge of the language."

Morgan glared at the younger man. "What the hell?"

The rest of the team did their best to disregard Reid's statement, knowing he was only trying to keep them all from getting their hopes up too high. Rossi was the first one to attempt to assemble the pieces. "Dark and cold, she could be describing where she is; an attic or a basement, maybe. It could also reference to a cave or cabin in the mountains somewhere," he suggested, realizing those were all very broad search parameters.

"Leaves might go with that cave or cabin in the woods theory," Hotch chimed in, realizing for the first time that he believed she was alive.

Reid tried to redeem himself in Morgan's eyes by offering a more helpful suggestion. "But what if it means something else, like he leaves her alone sometimes? She could be trying to tell us that there are windows of opportunity in which we can get to her."

"How about home, what does that mean?" Morgan questioned.

"That she wants to go home," JJ spoke up. She wasn't a profiler, but she'd spent plenty of time around them. Mostly, she knew how she'd feel if it were her in Emily's position. "She says tired at the end; maybe meaning too tired to keep fighting him for much longer. Maybe Emily just wants to go home," she offered.

No one tried to discredit her words, though they all hoped Emily could hold on just a little bit longer. Hotch regarded his team, Morgan in particular. They were all looking to him to take the lead. He didn't disappoint. "Rossi and JJ, I need you both to follow up on this Benson kidnapping case. Set up contact with Woodbridge police and talk to the family. I'll join you as soon as I get done with Strauss."

"What are you going to tell her about all of this?" Morgan asked.

Without missing a beat, Hotch replied, "I need to tell her that Emily is alive and that we'll be working to find her. Garcia," he turned to the woman. "I need you to bring your laptop and come with me. I want her to know everything we know."

"Of course," she agreed, already packing up.

Hotch had just one more order to relay. "Morgan, I want you to take Reid and head to Cape Cod right away. Comb every inch of that marina site for any information you can find. I know it's been six months, but I want to figure out how the hell he got her away from that burning building."

Derek and Reid were out the door in a flash. Morgan would have followed through with his plan to go after Emily on his own, but was glad to finally have the team fully on his side.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 8

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Afternoon sun shined down on Morgan and Reid as they walked across the marina parking lot. Winter had come and gone, and spring was in full bloom. All the while, Emily had been locked up with a crazy man, who was doing God only knew what to her. Derek tried not to let his thoughts go to those horrible places, but trying and succeeding where two very different matters. He and Reid had landed at a small Cape Cod airport about four hours after the last call he'd gotten from Emily. Her voice was still fueling his drive.

When they reached the site where the old storage building had burned down, there was a flurry of activity. All the rubble had been cleared away and it looked like they'd graded the area for new construction. Derek approached a man in a white hardhat. He flashed his badge to catch the worker's attention. "What's going on here?" Morgan asked.

"Creating a new boat launch," the man replied.

"Is there a general contractor on site that we can talk to?" Derek questioned.

A finger was pointed toward the water. "GC is the guy in the green vest, name's Nick Perry."

Derek set off and Reid followed. They walked down a graveled path with pine trees and ferns lining the high bank to the east. At water's edge, Derek announced their presence. "Nick Perry, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan with the FBI," again he presented his badge. Perry turned his attention toward them. "This is Dr. Reid," Morgan indicated his college. "Could we have a minute of your time?"

Perry nodded, finished his instructions to the crew and turned to Derek again. His face revealed fine lines that came with age. Morgan guessed him to be about, mid to late forties. "This about that fire a few months back?" he asked, motioning for them to follow him back toward the parking lot. "The crew is about to pour concrete," he let them know. "Don't want to be in the way."

They stopped about half way back to the parking lot and Derek finally responded. "We have new evidence linking to that fire and need to follow up."

"I thought two folks lost their lives, end of story," Nick Perry arched his brows in curiosity.

"Not exactly the end," Reid replied cryptically, without further explanation. "Have you or your crew discovered anything out here while you've been working; something of interest?"

Perry shrugged. "That's a rather vague question."

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Morgan added, equally vague.

"Only thing we hadn't expected to find was that storm drain line," Perry revealed.

"Storm drain?" Reid pressed.

The general contractor took a few steps toward the water again. "We were getting ready to excavate for the new boat launch and found an old storm drain tunnel. It wasn't on any utility map, but it was... right about there," he pointed to a fern covered spot on the six foot high east bank. "We had to have it surveyed, which added months to the project. Finally we found out that it hadn't been used in nearly three decades. So, we closed it off at this end."

Reid's mind swirled as he listened to the man. "How big a line is it? I don't remember seeing anything like that when we where searching the area."

"It's a four foot diameter concrete pipe that dead ended directly under the old building that burned down," the GC informed them. "Rubble from the fire covered it up, which is probably why you never saw it. Back in the forties and fifties they built those types of drains all along this coast line, but they never worked very well because they were too close to the shore. How some people ever become engineers is beyond me," he scoffed.

Derek had to nod his agreement. He'd seen a fair bit of lousy construction on some of his properties. He glanced out at the water for a moment. His sunglasses cast a grayish hue over everything as he considered what Perry had just told them. "Was there some sort of access hatch from the basement to the underside of the building; a way to get to that storm drain tunnel?"

"Sure, there was the fish swish," Perry answered.

"Fish swish?" Reid's face scrunched up.

"The basement was used to clean and gut fish years ago before they started storing fuel down there. I worked there one summer while I was in high school. It was a slaughterhouse for anything that was caught here at the marina and sold up in the old store. They pushed all the fish guts down through that trap door, which was dubbed the fish swish. Kind of a play on a toilet bowl that makes that swishing sound when you flush. Hell, it didn't make much sense to me either but that's what they called it," Perry chuckled.

"How big was this fis… uh, trap door?" Reid asked.

"About two feet by three. It had to be accessible to humans because occasionally some poor sap had to crawl down there and clean the area out. The tide came in and out catching most of what was down there, but occasionally it needed a helping hand out to sea. After the rules changed and folks weren't allowed to dump that sort of stuff out into the water, I guess the door was just bolted up."

Derek tried not to chastise himself for having missed such a thing. He knew they'd had no reason to even suspect that Carlyle had escaped. "Do you think a person could have gained access to that storm drain tunnel from underneath the old building?"

"Sure," Perry nodded. "You'd have to hunch over quite a lot to get around down there, but it would have been doable."

"Do you know how far up the coast that drain runs?" Reid asked.

"About four miles," the GC replied. "It lets out on the side of some poor guy's waterfront property. I had to send a survey crew to check it out, never ventured there myself, though."

Morgan definitely wanted to venture there. "Do you have an address?"

"I can probably get one for you," Perry agreed in a helpful manner. He walked them over to a small job-site trailer. After disappearing inside for about five minutes, Perry returned with a slip of paper for them. "Hope you find what you're looking for. Anything else I can help you with?"

"Not at the moment," Morgan responded, glancing at the address. "Thank you."

They walked back to the FBI issue SUV that had been waiting for them at the airport. Derek punched their address into the GPS and the drive didn't take more than fifteen minutes. Reid knocked at the door of a white-washed beach house. The owner of the house, who introduced himself as Max and looked to be in his sixties, led them down to the waterfront where the drain ended.

Reid hunkered down and stepped inside the darkened concrete cylinder. "Your back would probably be sore for a while after a four mile walk like that," he looked to Morgan as he exited. "But it's definitely traversable, like Perry said."

"And he was probably carrying or dragging Emily somehow," Derek peered into the dark tunnel as well. "There's no way she would have gone with him unless she'd been drugged or unconscious."

"Do you remember seeing or hearing anything out here the day of the fire at the marina?" Reid asked Max as Derek wandered a little further away, but still within hearing range.

The gray-haired man looked pensive. "I'm semi-retired, only work three days a week and spend long weekends out here with my wife. I remember that Friday morning real well, hearing the explosions and seeing smoke even from here," he noted. "I didn't see anyone out this way, though."

Derek re-joined them. "Did you hear any boats taking off?"

"No, but we were gone most of the day. We left about eleven a.m. that morning," Max informed them. "When we got home our dingy was missing. I almost forgot about that."

"What time did you get home?" Reid inquired.

Max ran a finger across his chin. "It was pretty late, around midnight I think."

Morgan turned his head toward the sun, which was still fairly high in the sky. He looked back toward the tunnel and saw that the sunlight barely lit the entrance. "Carlyle is a pretty fit guy; it would only take him about an hour and a half to traverse four miles. It might have taken him closer to double that if he was packing Emily. We could say four hours, tops." Reid nodded his agreement and Max looked confused.

"The fire started just after nine a.m. that morning, which means he got here at about one p.m.," Derek continued to verbally put words to the possible events he was piecing together in his head. "Due to the lack of light in there, he easily could have hid out in that tunnel and waited until dark. Then he took the dingy and got away. Our teams never searched this far to the east," Morgan's voice held a note of regret.

"Sunset in mid-October occurs at about six-twenty p.m.," Reid noted. "So he waited in there for a good six hours or more, but where did he go in the dingy?"

"We found it the next morning," Max spoke up again. "It was only about a mile up the shore, beached down near Randall road."

"Is it secluded out there?" Reid questioned.

"Very, lots of trees," Max nodded and pointed toward the eastern horizon. "You can see it from here, where the water bends around."

Derek kept his eyes to the horizon. "So, someone could park a car out there and not be noticed?"

"I suppose, yeah," the man agreed.

Morgan shook his head and sighed. "Carlyle planned this all out," he took a deep breath and looked to Reid. "He knew Emily would follow him to that marina so he probably went there ahead of time to find a way out. He had to have planned something like this for weeks or months, maybe even before his wife and daughter died."

"But where did he take her?" Reid wondered aloud. "We had police crawling all over the area. There were road blocks set up at all the major entry and exit points to the Cape."

"He took her somewhere close," Derek replied. "The best place to hide is in plain sight," he muttered, recalling the words Emily had spoken to them in Arabic. "Home."

Reid listened to his friend. "He couldn't have taken her back to his family's home," the doctor shook his head. "That place was cordoned off for nearly a week after Rossi and JJ found Melissa Zanvil there," he reminded Morgan.

"Not his home," Derek uttered as his eyes widened with realization. "Son of a bitch!" he swore as he took off toward the SUV.

"Morgan!" Reid called out. He turned to Max and flashed a look of apology. "Thank you," he said quickly before jogging after Derek and joining him at their vehicle. "What's going on? You figured something out? Tell me."

Derek splayed his hands on the hood of the SUV. "One of the words Emily said in Arabic was, home."

"And we concluded that she meant she wanted to go home," Reid nodded.

"We concluded wrong, Reid." Morgan hoped that he was right. "I think Emily might have been talking about a place she once thought of as a home, the house that her parents used to own here on Cape Cod."

Spencer's brows arched as the possibility sunk in. "Seriously? That would mean she's been here… the whole time," he shook his head, almost wishing that weren't the case. "We still don't know where that house is, do we?"

"No, and there's no guarantee that she's still there. It makes more sense that he took her there until we cleared out our police force and then moved her. But part of her clue wanted us to know she was there at least for a while. She might have left a clue there for us." They got into the vehicle. "Locals at the marina might be old enough to remember where they lived. The Ambassador is a pretty powerful woman, even if she did try to wipe out that part of her life, someone must know something."

"Why don't we just ask her ourselves?" Reid suggested. He regarded Morgan's face for about a second and had his answer. "You don't want to get the Ambassador's hopes up in case we eventually find that Emily is…" Spencer stopped short. Thinking Emily was dead for the last six months had been hard, but facing the possibility of her being dead after just realizing she was alive. Reid didn't think any of them could handle that, especially not her mother. "Right, let's go chat up the locals," he agreed.

Morgan nodded as he put the vehicle in drive. "Perry said he worked at the marina one summer, he might know something. If it comes down to the fact that we can't find an address through other means, then we'll call the Ambassador," he declared.

xxx

Derek stopped the vehicle in front of a two-story house that sat back from the street and was bordered by tall pine trees on each side. Perry had been a font of information yet again, having quickly tracked down the address for them. The front yard was clustered with wispy Aspens and thick evergreen shrubs, and the closest houses on either side were at least a hundred feet away. Morgan couldn't help think that Emily's cries for help could have gone unnoticed in such a secluded place.

Late afternoon sun caused long shadows to fall across the house's clear-stained cedar siding. Its Cape Cod style exterior seemed cliché, but lent the structure a homey feel. Derek was just about to open the car door when his cell rang. "Garcia, we're kind of busy here," he answered. "Make it quick."

"_Fifteen minutes ago my computer picked up a signal from the cell phone Emily's last call came from. Thankfully, I never cleared it from my system, because it started transmitting again. I tracked it to an address right there on Cape Cod. 1554 E. Truman Street. Was that quick enough for you?"_

"Shit!" Morgan swore as he leapt out of the car. "That's where we are right now!" he ended the call abruptly and reached for his weapon.

Reid had his gun pulled as well and they crept together toward the house. They moved half way up the long driveway when Derek looked down at something, a spot on the concrete. He bent down and pressed a finger to the dark area. "Oil," he looked to Reid. "There's been a car here recently. They could be gone." Derek stood and aimed his weapon toward the side of the house. A second later their ears both perked up as a rustling sound came from somewhere at the back of the house.

They rushed around the right side and worked their way through a forest of trees. Derek emerged first into the large back yard that had a pool, patio and garden shed, as well as a fairly expansive patch of green lawn. It all looked a bit grown over, though, as if it hadn't been properly cared for in a while. Reid came to stand behind Morgan and another noise caused them both to spin around. An orange cat stood still, big yellow eyes scrutinizing them for a moment. Then he ran off across the yard and disappeared into the trees.

"Just a cat," Reid sighed.

"Maybe," Derek replied as he inched toward the back door of the house.

Spencer joined him there and glanced through the window pane in the door. "We didn't expect this; we don't have a warrant to search this place."

"If you think the lack of a warrant is going to stop me right now, you are sadly mistaken," Morgan replied as he tried the door. He jiggled the knob but it was locked, so he used his gun to break the window and put his hand through the hole to unlock the door from the inside. "I'm not letting a piece of paper stand in my way. You're either with me on this or you're not." He pushed the door in with his foot.

"I'm with you," Reid said as he followed Derek.

The back door led them into a spacious kitchen, which Reid immediately cleared. Derek cleared the pantry then they moved on to search all of the other room on the main floor. Reid met Derek by the oak-framed stairway that led to the second floor. Morgan poked around some more and found a door at the other end of the staircase. He spotted a flight of stairs that led down. Derek remembered Emily's words about things being dark and cold.

"Reid, you go up," Morgan instructed. "See if there's an attic or anything else of significance. I'll go down and search the basement."

They split up and Derek cautiously descended the hardwood stairs. At the bottom, he found a light switch and flipped it, causing three round ceiling fixtures to illuminate the area. The room opened up to him; concrete block walls and a carpeted floor. There was no furniture in the space, but there were two doors on the wall in front of him; another door to his right and one more to his left. He checked the doors straight ahead and found one to be a closet. The other seemed to be a laundry room. There were hookups but no washer or dryer.

He then opened the door to his right. It was a small bathroom; toilet, sink and tub. The space was clean, but Derek spotted something that turned his stomach. Morgan lifted the brown leather collar off the floor and realized it was attached to a chain. The chain was bolted to the floor. He released a shaky breath and fled the room, headed toward the last door. Derek turned the knob but it wouldn't open. He kicked the door in with a damn-the-consequences attitude.

A strong smell assaulted his nose. The combo could best be described as pungent sweat and acrid blood. Even in the damp basement he felt himself start to sweat, beads of fear pooling at the base of his neck. He held his gun out in front and swung it to the right where he came face-to-face with a wall. Derek quickly spun around to the left and his heart leapt into his throat. He took one small step toward a bed, which had metal bars at the foot and head. Morgan could clearly see a figure tied to the bed. He took another few steps forward.

Her dark hair was pushed to the left as her face was turned to the right. The curve of her nose and chin were as familiar to him as his own reflection in the mirror. His feet continued to move cautiously forward as his heart raced. Everything became clearer to his eyes, the way both her ankles were tied and one of her wrists. The right wrist was free and her hand held a cell phone. He spotted blood against her lips and several spots of it on the bare mattress by her head.

For some reason, the most blatant thing eluded him until that very moment. Morgan finally let his eyes focus on her back. He silently mouthed the words that were carved into her flesh, dried blood caked to them. "REID!" he screamed the young man's name as he sheathed his gun and finally got his feet to cross the rest of the way to her bed.

Derek hadn't prayed in a long time, probably not since the night Garcia had been shot. His war with religion still waged on, especially the last six and half months of his life. But, at that moment, as he stood so close to the hope that he'd been carrying around for months, Derek Morgan prayed to whatever God would listen to his plea. He prayed for just one thing; that he'd find a pulse at Emily's neck. Derek knew he could deal with anything else later. He just needed her to be alive.

He held his breath and pressed two fingers against her cool neck. The faint pulse he found there restarted his heart and he screamed again. "REID!"

Morgan sank down on the bed beside her and reached out to wipe the blood from her mouth. His hand found something sharp on the mattress beneath her and he soon realized it was a tooth. Derek discovered a second tooth as he carefully removed the cell phone from her hand. He examined that wrist to find the rope looked like it had been gnawed through. "Shit," he swore, his stomach churning. "Reid, where the hell are you?!"

Just as the last word escaped his lips, the man in question darted into the room. Reid stopped at the foot of the bed, gun pointed. For a moment he looked like he was about to throw up. He'd seen worse things, but none that had involved such a dear friend. "Emily?" he whispered her name as he put his gun away.

"Help me untie her," Morgan demanded.

"But, is she…" Reid took a tentative step to the right side of the bed, staring at her closed eyes.

"I found a pulse," Derek replied as he pulled out his pocket knife to cut through the rope at her left ankle and then her wrist.

Spencer tried to look everywhere but at her back as he freed her right ankle. "We should call the paramedics."

"Yes," Morgan agreed. "First, give me your shirt."

"My, uh…" Reid was confused.

"Your shirt!" Derek shouted, losing what little patients he had. He waved his hand at Reid's short sleeved button-front shirt. Derek wore only a dark blue t-shirt and could see that Reid had an undershirt on. "I don't have anything else to cover her with. There aren't even any sheets on this bed," he noted, as if Reid couldn't see for himself. "Besides, it will be easier to get your shirt on her than a pull-over. Take it off."

Reid did as he was asked and handed the green and white stripped item to Derek. "I should make that call…"

"Help me here, first," Derek carefully drew her up into a semi-seated position, trying to be mindful of her back. He felt nauseous by how frail she was in his arms. "Get her right arm through the sleeve."

The younger man looked away as Emily's chest became very exposed to him. "I don't think…"

"Damn it, Reid. This is not the time to be embarrassed. She's not going to give a shit what you see. Just help me," Morgan demanded.

Spencer finally helped. "I don't think you should be moving her like this, what if she has some sort of internal injuries or something?" he helped Derek button the shirt, taking the bottom three buttons as Morgan did up the top four.

"Call the paramedics," Derek said as he scooped Emily up into his arms, being as gentle as possible. "They can examine her out on the front lawn, or wherever the heck they want. But I am not leaving her in this house for one more minute," he growled. As he moved toward the door, Derek spoke more softly to Emily. "You're going to be okay, angel," he whispered in her ear. "Everything is going to be alright now. I promise."

Reid wasn't as assured about that, watching as Derek carried her pale, lifeless body up the stairs. He finally dialed 911 and followed them out of the house.

xxx

Garcia sat beside Emily's mother and thought back to the phone call they'd gotten from Reid several hours ago. Strauss had pulled the team off the Benson kidnapping the second she'd learned of Emily's peril. In fact, the rest of them had been about to join Reid and Derek when news of Emily's rescue had filled their overwhelmed ears. Derek had insisted on flying back to D.C. with Emily as soon as the paramedics had stabilized her. He'd followed through on that plan and now they were all waiting for news of her condition.

JJ sat on the other side of the ambassador. The three women were seated on an uncomfortable sofa in the third floor waiting room at George Washington University Hospital. "Can we get you something?" Garcia asked the older woman. "More coffee?"

"No, thank you," the Ambassador replied with a forced smile.

"What about your husband?" JJ carefully broached the subject. He hadn't been home when she and Hotch had gone to tell the woman about Emily. "Can I call him for you?"

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "He's overseas on business," she let them know. "I keep thinking about calling him, but…"

"You want to know more about Emily's condition before you call," Garcia guessed, patting Elizabeth's hand. "I'm going to see how Derek is doing. If you'll excuse me." She got up and shared a small smile with JJ before heading across the room. Garcia joined Reid by the clear windows that looked out onto the hospital corridor. They both watched Derek pace in the hallway. "How's he doing?" she asked.

Reid shrugged, standing there in his undershirt. "At the house on Cape Cod, I thought the paramedics were going to need a crowbar to pry Emily out of his arms. It's killing him to be separated from her right now."

"He knows the doctor and nurses are helping her," Penelope replied, though she could see that Derek looked to be wearing a hole in the linoleum floor outside the waiting room.

"Yeah," Reid nodded. "I just… she looked so… and…" he took a shaky breath, trying to process what he'd seen in that basement. "Derek just wanted to get her out of there so badly. I think there might be more to their relationship than just being friends."

Garcia chuckled softly. "Very perceptive of you, Dr. Reid," she teased him, but seeing his worried look caused her to pull him into a one-armed hug. "Hey, he's going to be fine and so is Emily." She looked him in the eye. "And they're going to need our help to get through this, so we have to stay strong. Okay?"

He nodded again as Hotch and Rossi strolled into the room, each carrying a cardboard holder with several cups of coffee. "Any word yet?" Rossi asked.

Penelope was about to answer when she spotted Derek following a doctor into the waiting room. "Are any of you the family of Emily Prentiss?" the man asked.

Elizabeth got to her feet and moved toward the doctor; a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair. He was wearing jeans and a green t-shirt underneath a white medical smock that hung open in the front. "I'm her mother," she announced. "And these are…" The woman looked to her right to find Derek there. "They're all family too. They can hear whatever it is you have to say."

"I'm Dr. Seaton," he introduced himself. "Emily's condition is stable," the man told them.

"That's the same thing the paramedics told us before we flew back, and what a nurse told us when she was first brought in here," Morgan looked ready to strike out at someone, and he had his eyes trained on the doctor. "How is she? The truth," he demanded.

Seaton remained calm. "Emily has no internal injuries, no broken bones or anything else potentially fatal. She is severely dehydrated and malnourished, but we've got a feeding tube in her stomach which should start to replenish essential nutrients. Blood tests revealed no sign of drugs in her system. The wounds on her back were infected but they've been properly cleaned and bandaged. Thankfully, the cuts weren't deep enough to damage organs or any major arteries. She also lost a few teeth somehow."

"She chewed through a quarter inch thick piece of rope to free one of her hands," Derek relayed.

No one spoke for a moment as they digested that news. "Other than that, she had a few minor bruises and scraps. There's no sign of sexual assault either," he concluded.

They all released a sigh of relief upon hearing the last bit of information. "Then she's going to be okay?" JJ was the first to speak.

"Eventually," the doctor replied. "Emily is facing a rather lengthy recovery and a lot of physical therapy in her future. We looked over the results of her last physical and concluded that she's lost somewhere in the range of seventy-five to eighty percent muscle mass, which is going to take months to build up. Emily is going to have to learn to walk all over again."

"Well, you can't walk if you're dead," Morgan blurted out. "So, I'd say she'll up to the challenge. Can we see her?"

Dr. Seaton nodded. "Just one at a time, please. She's still unconscious and I imagine she'll remain that way for a good few days as her body tries to process everything that's happened. It's not a coma, Emily is just exhausted," he reassured them.

Derek turned to her mother. "You should go first," he offered.

"No, maybe you should," Elizabeth replied, clearly worried about seeing her daughter again.

Noting the concern in both their voices, Dr. Seaton made a small concession. "I'll allow the two of you in. Follow me."

The others watched as Derek walked away with Emily's mother and the doctor. As much as Hotch wanted to let his team go home and rest, there were a few things that needed to be done. "There's a forensic team at the house on Cape Cod, but I'd like to search the place myself; talk to the neighbors. I'm planning to fly out in the morning," Hotch let them know.

Rossi nodded. "I'd like to go with you."

"Jet takes off at seven a.m.," Hotch was thankful for his friend's offer. He turned his attention to JJ. "I want Andrew Carlyle's face and name plastered in the headlines of every newspaper and on every TV news program across this country."

"I can do that," she replied.

The Unit Chief turned to the others. "I've already contacted headquarters about getting an armed, plain-clothed officer to stand guard outside Emily's door, twenty-four hours a day. Carlyle is going to figure out she's gone sooner rather than later, and I'm afraid he's going to be really..."

"Pissed off," Garcia finished for him.

"Do we think he'll devolve, or escalate?" Rossi posed the question because, even as many serial killers as he had tracked in his life, he honestly didn't know what Carlyle was capable of. The man had been three steps ahead of them the whole time.

Hotch sighed. "My best guess at this point is escalation. We need to prepare for the worst."

xxx

Derek sat to the right of Emily's bed. Her mother had stepped out for a few minutes so it was just the two of them at the moment. The rest of the team had trickled in and out over the last few hours; Hotch and Rossi only for about five minutes each. JJ stayed a little longer, but had wanted to get home to her family. Garcia had been there almost an hour when Derek asked her to run an errand for him. Reid had only gone home at Derek's insistence.

Emily had been moved to a private room and they'd been granted round-the-clock visitation, all her mother's doing. Morgan was thankful for the small, quiet space. He watched as her chest rose and fell and marveled at the fact that she was there beside him. One hand rested atop hers, mindlessly stroking her boney fingers. The nurses had cleaned her up, but they hadn't been able to cover the dark circles under her eyes that spoke volumes about how she'd been treated.

"You did so well, Em," he reached up to run his fingers over her pale cheek. "Rest as long as you need."

The door opened and Garcia quietly made her way to where he was seated. "This is what you asked for," the woman spoke as she handed him a book. She then held up the bag in her right hand. "And this is a change of clothes for you." Penelope sat the bag down on the floor and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Get some sleep," she said, pulling away.

"I'll try," he agreed, knowing it was unlikely that he would. Derek took Garcia's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Thank you, baby girl."

She smiled, patted Emily's hand and then slipped out of the room just as quietly as she'd entered. Morgan looked down at the book on his lap. His left hand grazed over the gold letters of the title. The room's door opened again a few seconds later. Ambassador Prentiss walked in and placed her purse at the foot of Emily's bed. She immediately recognized the book he was holding. "Is that…"

Derek held it up for her to see. "It's the copy Erica gave to Emily on their birthday. I kept it after…" he hated to keep repeating the part about when they'd all thought Emily was dead.

Elizabeth nodded as she fished through her purse and pulled out a plastic zip bag. "The nurse on duty just gave me this," she opened the bag and emptied its contents into the palm of her hand. Elizabeth ran her thumb over the silver necklace and then held it out for him to see. "She said Emily was wearing it when they brought her in. It's the gift you gave Emily on her last birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes," Morgan replied.

"I think you should put it back where it belongs," the woman handed it to him.

Morgan gladly did as she suggested, carefully maneuvering the chain around Emily's neck and locking the clasp. He sat back down and motioned toward the chair in the corner of the room. "One of the nurses told me it folds out into a bed, and there's an extra blanket. You should lie down for a while, Ambassador. Get some rest," Derek proposed.

"I'd like that, but only if you agree to call me Elizabeth," the smile she gave him was a warm one.

He helped fold the chair out and spread the blanket for her. When he was finished, Derek caught sight of the older woman kissing her daughter on the forehead. The gesture made him happy and hopeful that Elizabeth would finally be able to relate to Emily as a proper mother. He hated to think it had taken such an ordeal to bring that about, but he knew Emily would need all their support in the months to come.

As she settled down on the chair-bed, he asked, "Do you mind if I read aloud for a little while? I thought it might be nice for her to hear a familiar voice."

"Not at all. It's been a long time since I've heard the story," Elizabeth replied, closing her eyes.

Derek opened the book. He'd held on to it for many months, but had never read it. Now seemed like a good time to finally rectify that. He glanced down at Emily's note, which was still tucked inside the book. He'd read it over and over, many a sleepless night. Derek flipped to the next page and started to read. _"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents, grumbled Jo…"_

* * *

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 9

By N. J. Borba

* * *

"_Oh, my girls, however long you live, I can never wish you a greater happiness than this._"

He wore a satisfied smile as he closed Emily's book. Six days later Derek was done reading the tale that had long been a favorite of hers. He'd taken breaks to read some of his favorites too, thinking a variety would be more entertaining for her. "I can see now why it's a classic," Derek spoke to her as he sipped his morning coffee, which had gotten cold. "Still a bit girly for my taste, though," he winked at the sleeping figure, as if she were sitting up and chatting with him. He'd give just about anything for that to be the case.

She said nothing, though, and he continued the one-sided conversation. "Jo certainly reminded me of you, though. A girl who's a book worm and tom boy to the core, smart too." He sat his coffee down on the table and leaned forward. One hand combed through Emily's dark hair. It had grown much longer during her time away with Carlyle. Derek liked it long, or shorter. He didn't much care either way. Mostly he wanted to see her eyes again.

"I don't know what you did to me, Emily," he chuckled, shaking his head as a hand continued to stroke gently over her hair. "Derek Morgan was a confirmed bachelor, then you walked into my life and…" he sighed. "You changed everything." Derek sat back, collected his emotions and reached for the morning paper. "Let's see what the Peanuts gang is up to today. Your mother should be here soon, you could probably set a watch by her," he noted. "She doesn't care much for the funnies, though."

Derek was there every morning, bright and early, always managing to get in some time with her before Elizabeth arrived. Hotch had suspended him for a week, due to the fact that he hadn't obtained a search warrant at the Cape Cod house. Reid was spared the same black spot on his record at Derek's insistence. And Strauss had been extremely lenient on both of them, considering they'd found Emily alive. The Bureau was a stickler for rules most of the time, but they looked out for their own. Everyone in the BAU felt like they'd let Emily down.

Morgan relaxed and read as rays of golden morning sunlight filtered through the open blinds of the hospital window. He really didn't mind his suspension, as it had come at a rather good time, allowing him to spend just about every waking moment at Emily's side. At first he'd been happy to watch her sleep, grateful that she was able to rest. It seemed the best thing for her. But after three days his worry had finally set in, even though the doctor insisted she would wake up when her body was ready.

On the fourth day she had shown the first signs of waking, but it was not what they'd hoped. Emily's unconscious moans were from deep seeded nightmares that revealed themselves at several different intervals over the next few days. Derek had gone to her that first time and whispered words of comfort in her ear. Emily had calmed, but she had yet to fully wake from the real nightmare. Recalling the happy ending to her book, he wished the same for Emily. But, as she stirred again, Derek feared those things only happened in fairytales.

"You will never…" Emily muttered, her head tossing from side to side. "Never be…"

"Shh," Morgan whispered, taking one of her hands in his. She always said the same thing in her sleep; words he remembered Carlyle prompting her to speak over the phone. They still didn't know why the man had made those calls. Derek's only conclusion was that it had been to prove to her that he was in control. Emily had shown him otherwise, though, breaking through to get a message to the team. Morgan had never been more proud of anyone.

"Never," she spoke again. "Never…"

Derek whispered in her ear, "_Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation._" The quote was one from Gibran that he'd come across recently. It seemed to do the trick as he heard her breathing even out. Morgan pulled back and was shocked to find her eyes opened. She was staring up at him, as if in a trance. "Emily? Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?"

"My friend until the end of time…"

Morgan watched her eyes close again after speaking just those few words. His heart lightened to hear them, though. He recalled telling her that on her birthday. Derek had sworn to be her friend that night, even if it was all she ever wanted from him. The promise still held true. "Emily?" Derek tried to reach her again as he saw her eyes flutter open and closed. "Come on…" he prompted. "Stay awake for me, angel."

Then, as if her nightmare spell had been broken for good, she opened her eyes fully and looked out the window. Streams of sunlight fell across her pale face. "It's a beautiful morning," Emily's voice croaked, even as she spoke the words with a smile.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and ended up making a sound that was somewhere in between the two emotions. "Yes, it truly is," Derek agreed, looking only to her and not the sunrise outside. "Do you know who I am?" he asked the question again, wanting to be sure she was okay, or whatever would qualify for okay at the moment.

Emily nodded as her eyes moved to him. "Derek Morgan."

His heart soared. "Do you know who you are?"

"Yes," her voice cracked again. "Emily… Prentiss."

Derek grinned, remembering the first time he'd heard her say the name while shaking hands across the table in the BAU conference room. He grabbed the paper cup that was sitting on the table beside his coffee. "The nurses bring these ice chips in all the time in case you wake up," he explained, spooning out a small amount and holding it to her mouth. "They said it would be easier on your stomach than sipping water."

Morgan swallowed a nervous lump in his throat as he watched her successfully down the ice chips. "Speaking of nurses…" he reached over and hit the call button on the side of her bed. "We should get someone in here to check everything out, make sure you're okay."

"Is she okay?" Emily asked.

"Who?" Derek questioned.

"Erica, is she okay? Did she get away?"

He frowned, confusion creasing his brow. "Emily, I'm not sure what you're talking about…"

"I was talking about Jessica," she cut him off. "Jessica Zanvil. Did she get out of that building before it burned? I told her to run. Please tell me she got away."

His worry ran deep, knowing for a fact that she'd said her sister's name at first. But Derek didn't mention it, wanting to reassure her. "Yes, she got away. Jessica is fine, so is her sister." Morgan squeezed her hand as he hoped for the nurse to arrive soon. "They're both fine," he reiterated. "And you're going to be fine too."

xxx

Garcia entered the conference room to find that the rest of the team was already gathered. "Has anyone seen him yet?" she asked, glancing from face to face and taking a seat beside Reid. She set up her laptop as the others all responded with a shrug of their shoulders or a few words. But no one had heard anything more from Derek since he'd first called in to have them assemble.

"Maybe it's about a lead on Carlyle? Or do you think something happened to Emily?" Penelope questioned. She couldn't imagine anything bad happening now, not after everything they'd been through to get her back. "I mean, he would have said something if it was bad, right? Or maybe he didn't want to say anything over the phone. Maybe he wanted the bad news to be given in person, because…"

"Garcia," Hotch stopped her. He knew she was just as nervous as they rest of them; but she hid it behind a rush of words. "I'm sure he'll be here soon and…"

The conference room door swung open, cutting off what Hotch was about to say. Derek strolled in, cell phone attached to his ear. "I just walked in," he was saying over the line as he regarded his friends and co-workers. They looked rather worried and he felt a little bad for his lack of explanation on the phone earlier. But he had a feeling they'd forgive him in about two seconds. "Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker…" He hit the appropriate button. "Okay, everyone is here in the BAU room."

"_Hello BAU room,_" a familiar voice greeted them.

"Oh my God, Emily!" Garcia squealed. "You're awake!"

Emily cleared her throat. "_Yes, I am_."

"It is so good to hear your voice," JJ joined Garcia in the conversation. Hotch, Reid and Rossi all still looked like deer caught in the headlights, though relatively happy deer.

"_It's good to hear yours too_," Emily agreed.

Reid sat forward and bravely formed some words. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"_Well, the last six months were not exactly the diet I would have chosen for fighting the middle-aged bulge_," she joked, seeming to be in exceedingly good spirits.

The young genius cringed. "Sorry, that was a dumb question."

"_No, it wasn't, Reid_," she tried to assure him. "_Actually I feel hungry, mostly. This feeding tube isn't really curbing my chocolate, fried chicken and cantaloupe craving. But my doctor said I can start off with some mashed potatoes and jell-o in a few days. I'm actually really looking forward to it_." Emily paused. "_And I feel tired, which is really ridiculous considering I've been asleep for the better part of a week._"

"You should be resting," Rossi piped in for a second.

Hotch nodded. "Dave is right," he looked around the room at the happy faces of his team, which he hadn't seen in a long time. "I'm sure there will be a few visitors to see you in the next couple of days, so you should rest and get your strength up."

"_Yes, boss_," Emily agreed.

Derek cut the speaker and put the phone to his ear again. "I'll see you later," he told her before ending the call.

Garcia reached over and whacked Derek on the back of his head with the palm of her hand. "Don't ever scare me like that again," she warned him with a glare that lasted all of a second before it was replaced with a grin. But her celebratory smile didn't last long either.

"How is she, really?" Hotch was the first to ask. She'd put on a good performance for them, but he had a feeling that's all it had been.

Morgan shrugged. "I'm not sure. Physically, the doctor says she's stronger already, but I got pretty much the same thing from her earlier; pretending that everything is fine. She barely blinked when I told her we didn't get Carlyle. She did tell me that the last time she saw him he had his hair died blonde and was wearing blue colored contacts," he revealed, leaving out the part about Emily getting confused about her sister and Jessica.

"Damn, he's disguising his appearance," Dave noted.

"The press release I sent out only had one picture of him; dark haired and green eyed," JJ reminded them.

Hotch nodded and turned to Garcia. "Can you work a little Photo Shop magic?"

"I'll do my best," the woman agreed.

"Carlyle is smart," Derek said. "He's probably dyed his hair again by now, maybe even shaved his head. He could be wearing glasses, a fake beard or mustache, hats, anything he can do to mask his identity."

Rossi flexed his fingers, wishing he could get them around Andrew Carlyle's neck. "He'll still be presentable, though. Well groomed, nice clothes. He clearly prides himself on his good looks and suave nature. Status is a big deal to him," he continued on where Derek had left off. "We also know he has money and the means to get what he wants."

"And he believes he's better than us," Reid joined in. "He hid Emily under our noses and that made him feel powerful. Now that he's lost her he'll try to recreate that feeling of power."

"He's unpredictable and, as Reid noted, already proven he can outsmart us," it pained Hotch to admit that, but it had cost Emily six months of her life, and probably more than that. "He could be anywhere by now," he pointed out.

JJ looked to Hotch. "Shouldn't we give a full profile to local authorities?" she suggested.

"We know who he is, but not where he'll go or what he'll do next," Hotch mused. "It's not a typical profile, but I agree we need to get this information out." He turned to Garcia again. "What else do we have?"

"Forensics lifted a full set of prints at the Cape Cod house. Nothing on record matches them, but they most likely belong to Carlyle. We'll have them if he kills again." Garcia knew it was more a matter of _when_ he was going to kill again, not if. "The former Prentiss house was last purchased in 1995, owner listed as Emily Carlyle; his daughter. It was being held in trust for her until she turned twenty-five. I'm currently looking for other bank accounts and properties with her name on them."

"Check the dead parent's names too," Rossi suggested.

"And the dead wife," Hotch added.

Garcia nodded. "I also searched for other Orthodontia practice listings under the name Andrew Carlyle. Nothing came up in any US cities. That was just a theory, though, from before we realized he had a load of life insurance cash," the tech pointed out.

Derek took a deep breath. "He didn't make it that far. Emily said he was getting ready to move his plan forward. Carlyle was probably off preparing a new place to relocate her when we found her. Unfortunately, we have no trail to follow there."

"We need to talk to his brothers," Hotch looked to JJ and Garcia, the two most likely to make that happen for him. "There's a reason why he used his parent's bodies to fake his and Emily's deaths," he stated. "You don't desecrate your parents like that without some serious hate. If his brothers know anything that might help us track him; places he might go, whatever. We need that information."

"They both live fairly close," Garcia responded. "David is an orthopedic surgeon in Baltimore. Matthew works as a computer technician up on Capitol hill."

"Get a court order if you have to," Hotch insisted. "Just bring them in."

JJ nodded. "Will do."

xxx

Emily laid in bed with her face pointed toward the window, sunshine streaming in again. She daydreamed about being outside basking in the warm weather after being stuck in a damp basement for months. But he was still holding her hostage in a way, because she couldn't escape the hospital prison she was in. As she lamented that fact, there was a knock at her door. It was rare that people knocked, not the nurses or doctor, anyhow.

"Come in," she finally replied. Emily's face lit up when she saw JJ enter the room. Her smile grew brighter when she spotted the boy holding on to his mother's hands. Henry toddled in on his tip toes. He walked in front of JJ and looked around the new space with wide-eyed curiosity. "JJ, your baby isn't a baby any more. He's walking," Emily felt foolish for being somewhat jealous of the child's mobility. Mostly she was thrilled to see them both.

JJ beamed as she scooped Henry up. "He's eighteen months old already. This walking thing has been going on pretty steadily now for the last four months."

"Guess I missed a few things while I was dead," Emily quipped. Seeing the uncomfortable look on JJ's face made her regret the flip remark. "Have a seat," she waved a hand at the chair beside her bed. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise," JJ replied as Henry squirmed in her arms. He stretched his arms out toward Emily and grunted. "Hey, little man, remember what we practiced this morning?" JJ asked. "Can you say hi to Emily?"

"Say hi Em!" the boy did his best to copy what JJ had said.

Emily laughed. "He's talking too."

"Yes, a lot. They say boys don't develop verbally as quickly as girls, but this little guy is breaking some records," JJ bounced him on her lap as he still tried to get to Emily. "Do you mind if I let go? He'll probably try to maul you."

"Its fine," Emily agreed, delighted as the boy crawled along her bed and stopped where she was seated. "Hello, Henry. You probably don't remember me but I got to see you the day you were born. And I teased your poor daddy about his accent."

Henry smiled, flashing his baby teeth. "Say hi Em," he repeated as he curled up beside her and was perfectly still.

"Wow, when can you come baby sit?" JJ asked. "He's rarely this reserved." She watched her friend and son for a moment as they sat, Emily stroking the boys fine blonde hair. "I'm glad he's being so good. I know how much his presence can heal my weary head after a long day. I thought maybe you could use the same."

Emily reached out to take one of JJ's hands and the three of them sat and chatted quietly for nearly an hour before Henry finally grew fussy. Ten minutes after they had gone, Rossi knocked at Emily's door and entered with a cheerful smile. "I tried to smuggle in a bottle of wine, but I swear those nurses out there are more thorough than the border patrol," Dave chuckled.

"Well, thank you for trying," Emily laughed too, grateful for the sound as it exited her lips. "Of course, I can't drink alcohol or even coffee for a while." She shrugged.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I got caught," he kept up the ruse. They spoke for a short time and Reid showed up not long after Dave had slipped out.

The boy genius still looked like a little kid to Emily most of the time, but she's worked with him long enough to know different. He also looked very nervous as he moved into the room and stood beside her bed. Emily remembered what Derek had told her about them finding her and she tried to break the ice with him. "So, did you like what you saw?" she asked in a teasing manner. His eyes darted around the room for a time, unable to focus on her as his cheeks flared a deep pink. "It's okay," Emily finally let him off the hook.

He visibly relaxed and handed her something. "It's a journal," Reid pointed out the obvious. "They didn't have red or blue, which is odd considering those are popular colors." Reid smiled shyly. "Maybe that's why they were sold out," he added, after thinking it through. "Anyhow…" The long, elegant fingers of his right hand tapped against the cover of the journal as she held it. "I got you purple because of Erica." Spencer grimaced a little. "Is it okay that I call her that?"

"It's her name," Emily nodded.

"I know, I just meant, well…" Reid shuffled his feet nervously. "Is it okay that I mention her?"

Emily smiled warmly, hoping to put him at ease. "I spent over twenty years unable to talk about my sister. I'd like to be able to tell people about her."

He smiled too, pleased that she was willing to open up to him about something so personal. "I thought since you have all this time, maybe you could write down some stuff… you know, thoughts and feelings about your sister or maybe what happened to you." Reid took a deep breath. "I don't know if you ever heard about Elle Greenaway, but she worked with the BAU before you came and she was a good friend of mine, but I… I don't think I was a good enough friend to her."

"Reid, I'm sure you were," Emily said, concerned about the pained look on his face.

"I just… after what happened to her I think I should have helped her more, but I didn't." His voice quaked. "Emily, I'm sorry for the way I treated you early on, when I was dealing with what Hankel had done to me and, well, I was very rude to you. But I want you to know that I consider you a very good friend, and you can talk to me about anything. And I'm so sorry that I let you believe he wouldn't go after you like he did. I…"

"Hey, stop it," she set her jaw in a determined manner. "What happened to me was not your fault." Emily recalled having told him that once before after another case. "I would have believed the same thing if I'd seen that explosion and knew someone was inside, especially if I'd been handed evidence of remains. You have nothing to be sorry for, Spencer."

He smiled. "I don't know that you've ever called me Spencer before."

"It is your name, right?" she teased. "Can I call you that?"

Reid nodded and they fell into a relaxed conversation after that. Emily's room was pretty much a revolving door that day as Garcia popped in a half hour after Reid departed. She was almost starting to wonder if they had all timed their visits. Garcia had no tears in her eyes, nor did she try to apologize for things beyond her control. She was just as effervescent as always and had brought along a cosmetics bag filled with everything but the kitchen sink. Garcia immediately set to work on Emily's pedicure, with no qualms whatsoever.

"So, what will it be on these little piggys?" Penelope asked. "I have Mango Passion, Crimson Tide and Bubblegum," she showed off the array of three nail color choices.

Emily shrugged. "I usually do something in the clear family."

"Well, my dear, it's time to liven things up a little," Garcia grinned. "Pick!"

"Um, Mango, I guess," Emily chose.

Penelope nodded her approval. "Never hurts to add a little passion to your life."

A chuckle escaped Emily's mouth as Garcia shook up the peachy colored bottle of nail polish. "You really don't have to do this," Emily let the woman know.

Penelope rolled her eyes as she sat down and started to paint the first big toe on Emily's right foot. "I know I don't have to," the quirky blonde replied. "Friends do things for each other because they want to," she informed the older woman. Her work continued for a while longer as she added Mango Passion to Emily's fingernails as well. Garcia then applied a small bit of blush to Emily's cheeks, the tiniest bit of eye shadow and some lip gloss.

"Not bad, but can you do anything about my lack of muscle tone?" Emily asked, looking at her self in the small hand mirror Garcia had provided.

"Just keep eating that jell-o and you should gain a few ounces in no time," Penelope teased. "Besides, Derek could care less what you look like. You could have green skin with purple and orange spots for all he cared. He would still be one hundred percent in…" the woman stopped short of saying the word love when she noticed the slightly confused look on Emily's face. "Uh, one hundred percent invested in helping you get back on your feet," she lamely finished.

Emily nodded, looking down at her painted fingernails. "He's a really good friend."

"Friend," Garcia carefully rolled the word around on her tongue. "You can never have too many _friends_." Penelope knew one friend who needed another slap upside the head the next time she saw him. Because it was pretty clear that Emily Prentiss was still in the dark as to Derek's true feelings for her, which went way beyond mere friendship.

xxx

It took almost two weeks of calling and scheduling, but JJ finally managed to get David and Matthew Carlyle into the BAU at the same time, and without a court order. They were waiting in the conference room when Derek joined Rossi. David, the oldest brother, was the first to bravely speak up. "We don't know where Andrew is," he told them. "We haven't had contact with him since last year at Allison and Emily's funeral."

"You're not in trouble. This isn't an interrogation," Rossi started off with reassuring words. "We don't think you're covering for Andrew, we just need to know more about him. This is the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We try to catch serial killers by profiling them, getting in their heads and figuring out what their next move will be."

"Serial killer," Matthew buried his face against one hand. "How did this happen?" he lamented. "Why didn't we see it? Why couldn't we stop this from happening?"

Morgan hated talking to victim's families. He hated even more having to talk to the families of killers. There was always so much blame. "Don't do that to your self," he offered a word of advice. "This wasn't because of anything you did or didn't do. Its nothing you could have predicted or stopped."

"But our parents… they should have…" David tried to find the right words. "If they'd told him sooner, from the start…"

"David, don't," Matthew shook his head.

Morgan and Rossi noticed the tone Matthew used and his body language screamed that there was a secret laying in wait. "We need to know about anything that might help us find your brother," Rossi implored. "What should your parents have told him sooner?"

David turned to his brother. "I'm almost fifty-six years old, Matty. I don't want to carry this shit around with me until I die."

"What don't you want to carry around?" Derek prodded.

"When I was ten years old and Matt was six, our parents had troubles," David began as Matthew remained silent. "Marriage problems," he further explained. "My mother found comfort elsewhere, with another man. Mom and dad didn't think we knew anything about it, but they fought every night. Shouting at the top of your lungs isn't exactly the best way to keep things secret," he remarked with a touch of anger, even forty years later.

Rossi silently drummed his fingers on the tale as he watched Matthew, who was staring at the wall while his brother spoke. "Was Andrew this other man's child?"

David nodded. "When Tyler Chamberlain told my mother he wanted nothing to do with the baby, my dad stepped up. He agreed to raise Andrew as his own and did everything he could to repair his marriage. For a time, we were a family again. Matty and I never spoke about what we knew, but…"

"Andrew eventually found out," Morgan guessed. "How?"

"On Andy's eighteenth birthday a certified letter from Tyler Chamberlain's lawyer arrived in the mail. Chamberlain had passed away two years before that and he left his entire estate to Andrew," David revealed. "Things changed after that, not all at once, but… Andy was never the same. Dad wanted to pay for his college education, but Andy decided to use the money Chamberlain left him."

Derek pursed his lips. "He slighted your father."

"Yes, every chance he got," David revealed. "Matt and I, we stayed in touch with him as much as possible, but he blamed all of us for not telling him, and rightfully so."

"What do you remember about the Prentiss family?" Derek asked.

David shrugged. "They were good friends of my parents. We saw them at functions a lot."

"Did their daughters attend these functions?" Rossi questioned.

"Some of them, yes," David replied. "They were quite a bit younger than Matt and I, but Andy talked to them a lot, Erica more so. Emily was usually pretty quiet."

Derek found it amusing to think of Emily as a quiet child. As long as he'd known her she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. "Did Andrew ever talk about Emily? Did he seem overly interested in her, obsessive?"

"No, he never talked about her," David shook his head. "I don't know how this all started, why he would do what he did to her and Erica. It doesn't make any sense."

Rossi restrained himself from telling them that serial killers rarely ever made sense. "Did Andrew become violent or ever make threats?"

David sighed. "There were threats, sort of. Our parents made him executor of their estate at Andy's insistence. He told them he needed proof of their love, so they gave in. They always gave him what he wanted, because they felt guilty about lying to him. Matt and I didn't want to sue Andy for what he'd done, but we just wanted to be able to visit our parent's graves. When his wife and daughter died, we decided to give him some time, thinking he'd come around eventually. Then he was gone too."

"Do either of you know any places he would go, cities where he's vacationed, places he might feel secure?" Morgan questioned.

They rattled off some places they'd traveled as a family, but mostly they revealed that Andrew had never been happy anywhere they lived or visited, which led Rossi and Derek to the same conclusion the team had already made; he could be anywhere. They let the brothers go, with the caveat that they contact the BAU if Andrew tried to get in touch with them. It wasn't much to go on, but they'd gotten one thing; a name that might be of some use.

"Have Garcia run the name Tyler Chamberlain," Rossi suggested to Morgan.

xxx

Derek pushed the door to her room open and saw that Emily was asleep. When he stepped inside and moved toward her bed, he could hear her moaning again. Morgan felt his heart ache every time her nightmares took hold. But he was grateful when he had an opportunity to subdue one. This time a few compelling words by Robert Frost came to mind. Derek spoke them softly to her. "_In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life. It goes on_."

He smiled wistfully as the tightened lines in her forehead smoothed out and her eyes opened, blinking away the fogginess of sleep. "Hey, angel."

"Derek," it took her a second to remember where she was. "What time is it?"

"Almost six p.m."

She managed to pull herself up into a seated position. "I was bored, guess I fell asleep. How pathetic is that? Summer is nearly here and I can't go for a swim or take a walk along the waterfront. The closest I can get to the outdoors in the hospital courtyard. It sucks," Emily lamented. She instantly felt bad for her self pity, seeing that Morgan looked like he wished he could make those things possible for her. Something else came to mind that she was curious about. "You've been calling me angel these last few weeks."

"You're the first person I know who's returned from the dead," he shrugged. "I figure you must be an angel."

Her bark of laughter filled the room. "Who knew the charming Derek Morgan could be so corny," she teased, and was glad to hear him laugh as well. Emily's thoughts couldn't help turning back to the subject of death, though. "Its kind of strange knowing there is still a grave with my name on it."

Derek winced. "I thought your mother was taking care of all that?"

Emily nodded. "She has a lot of power and money, but she's not God. Apparently it's easier to change a birth certificate than it is to have a death certificate revoked. Here I am talking to you, yet they still need validated proof that I'm alive. I had to take a blood test and now the papers are being pushed through the system, which could take six to twelve weeks."

He smiled sympathetically and tried to change the subject. "What have you got there?" Derek noticed an envelope on the rolling table near her bed.

"A letter from Jessica Zanvil," Emily reached for the pink notepaper. "Can you believe there's a thirteen year old girl alive in this day and age who actually takes time to write real notes on paper? She's a sweet kid; wanted to apologize for the letter she sent before, when everyone thought I was dead."

"That was very sweet of her. I remember her dad works for a publishing company, must be writing in the blood," Morgan tried again to steer the conversation away from death. "So, how are you feeling today?"

Emily pretty well hated that question after hearing it every day for weeks, but she humored him. "Okay, I guess. I fell on my ass in the tub when I tried to stand up."

"Ouch."

"More embarrassing than painful," she said. "I just didn't want that stupid nurse to wash my back." Emily barely took a breath before continuing. "My mother had a third plastic surgeon in here today. They keep telling her the same thing, that there's too much scar tissue for it to ever look like it used to. At least they can skin graft over the message. I think maybe it's her memory of that picture of Erica that's got her hell bent on this." Again her pause for breath was miniscule. "And I had my first physical therapy session this afternoon, see..."

Morgan watched as she raised her left leg a little. He wasn't all that surprised by the movement, having known from the second she'd woken up that progress would be made in great strides. It was the very rushed mention of her back that concerned him more. He knew that her determination to walk again was a way to mask what had happened to her, which she was still unwilling to talk about.

"That's really good," Derek acknowledged. "Although, I might be more impressed if you weren't grimacing quite so much," he couldn't help notice the pained look on her face. "You don't have to do it all in one session," Morgan told her.

She lowered her leg and glared at him. "I hate being weak," Emily admitted.

"I just don't want you to hurt yourself more by pushing too hard." Derek gently placed his right index finger against her forehead. "Up here, you are the strongest person I Know." His hand moved to push her hair behind one ear. "Your body just needs some more re-coop time."

"I guess so," she reluctantly agreed. "It's almost time for my evening meal. I could have a plate brought up for you too. I'll even tell them to give you some chicken or something more than the mushy stuff I get to eat."

Morgan was touched by the offer. "As tempting as that sounds, I have to go. The jet leaves in an hour."

"You're leaving for a case tonight?" she asked, hating being left out of the loop where the BAU was concerned. "What about Carlyle?"

"You know we're working on that. Unfortunately, we have other cases to take. Hotch wants to be in Salt Lake City tonight so we can start working first thing in the morning. Liam will be on day duty with you, and Scott during the nights," Derek watched her eyes roll when he mentioned the agents who stood guard at her door 24/7.

"Liam isn't much of a talker and Scott tells bad jokes," she noted. "Makes me wish for guards like Campbell had. At least they held some interesting conversations."

He couldn't help love the fact that she'd just made a reference to his favorite Vonnegut book, but he did have to cut their conversation short. "You do know they are not being paid to entertain you. Besides, I'm sure your mom will be around, maybe your dad too. I know Garcia will pop in if she gets a free moment away from this Utah case. And…" Morgan pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. "I got this for you. If you need anything or just want to talk, call me. You remember my number, right?"

A smile sprang to life on her face. "Unless you've changed it?"

"Never," he shook his head. Derek walked backward toward the door, waving. "I'll see you when I get back."

Emily's smile became a little sadder as she watched him go. "See you."

xxx

Derek and the rest of the team had been in Utah for three days and it seemed like they were getting close to finding their Un-Sub, just not close enough. They were missing something, an obvious bit of information that just wasn't falling into place for them. He was laying on the somewhat uncomfortable hotel bed, listening to Reid's snoring in the other bed. The case was still buzzing around his head too much for sleep to come.

The cell phone resting on his chest began to vibrate. Derek was grateful for the distraction and even more pleased when he saw who was calling. But her sleepy voice told Morgan that she'd woken from a bad dream. "Can't sleep?" he asked.

"_Can't stay asleep_," Emily replied. "_I didn't wake you, did I?_"

"No, it's only 10 p.m. here, although Reid is already sawing a few logs," he laughed. "I can't seem to get this case out of my head." Morgan went over the case with her, glad to have someone new listen to the details. He missed having Emily at work. She'd always been the easiest to team up with for some reason. Their styles just sort of messed well. They'd been paired up pretty much from the get-go.

"_Have you checked out any of the beauty schools in the area?_" Emily asked after digesting the case.

"No, but that's a good idea," Derek realized. "A really good idea. Thanks."

"_It's all a part of the sleep deprived service around here_," she replied, groggily.

Derek wished he could be there to whisper reassuring words in her ear like he always did when her nightmares reared up. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "I want to tell you a story. Are they closed?"

"_Yes_," Emily let him know.

"Once upon a time," he began his story, one that his mother had often recited for him and his sisters when they were little. "There was a small acorn that lived with his grandparents in the forest. His grandfather was a very wise old oak tree who used to be a forest sentry. The sentries guarded the forest from the evilness of men, who often set fires and cut down their friends in countless numbers…"

When he reached the end of the story, Derek could hear the sweet sound of each breath she took, in and out. He smiled, picturing her asleep with the phone against her cheek. Derek savored the quiet moment before he whispered to her. "Sweet dreams, angel." He closed the phone and let it rest against his chest again.

Reid's voice startled him. "Emily said she knew when her sister had died. And you never believed that Emily was dead. I was searching for facts, percentages; something quantifiable. But…" he paused for a second. "I realize now that there's no scientific data about those kinds of connections. I think it's just a matter of love."

Morgan was surprised by his friend's poignant words. He glanced across the dark room and saw that Reid's eyes were closed. Soon enough, he heard the younger man's soft snore fill the room again. It had been a strange night and Derek knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he'd done one last thing. The call he made went straight to voicemail as he'd been expecting. "Hey, baby girl, I hope you get this message first thing in the morning. I need you to run a search for me on all beauty schools in the Salt Lake City area."

xxx

The ringing of a phone woke her. Emily opened her eyes and focused on the wall clock across her room. Sunlight provided enough illumination for her to make out the time, which was still rather early. The phone kept ringing and she finally spotted the cell on a table within her reach. She didn't remember putting it there or even ending her call with Derek the night before. Emily guessed one of the nurses had set it aside for her.

She smiled and answered the call, recalling her late night conversation with Derek. "Now I get wake up calls?" Emily asked. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on you last night. I guess that was the point, but I'm still sorry I didn't get to thank you for the story. It was…"

"_Hello, Emily_."

Her whole body froze, paralyzed by his voice. It was most definitely not Derek. "How did you get this number?"

Carlyle's hallow laughter echoed through the line. "_You're the one who once told me you didn't know what I was capable of._"

"I got away, you bastard!"

"_But we'll be together again. You will never be…_"

Emily snapped the phone shut before he could utter the last word of a phrase she already knew well.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

Note: My internet connection has been wonky so I hope you all received my replies to your comments. If not, I thank you very much for your lovely reviews. They always make my day.  
Please enjoy this part!

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 10

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Derek slipped in and watched her work for a few minutes, impressed by how her fingers seemed to process information as fast as her head, maybe faster. The multiple computer screens let off a soft green glow that was absorbed by the computer tech's platinum hair. He was surprised she'd never tried dying in green. Penelope Garcia was probably the least likely person to ever become friends with a guy like him. Maybe that's why their relationship was so strong.

"Morning, baby girl," he finally announced his presence.

Without turning her head, she replied with a clear note of disappointment, "You're an idiot."

Morgan frowned, a little surprised by the sudden attack. He played along, though, not sure what he'd done to warrant her hurtful words. "Is this something new I've done, or just my everyday being an idiot type of thing?"

"Oh, this idiocy has been going on for a while now and you know it," her response was firm.

"Garcia," he sighed. "Why do I feel like I need a secret decoder ring for this conversation? You wanna help me out a little?"

Penelope swiveled around in her chair. She scrutinized him, jiggling a ball point pen between the thumb and index finger of her left hand. "What day is it?"

"August 16th," he replied.

"So, how long has it been since you and Reid rescued the fair maiden, Emily Prentiss?" She arched a brow.

His frown returned with a vengeance. "About three months," Derek answered.

"Don't strain your self too hard on this one," Garcia warned. "In that three months, how many times have you told Emily that you love her?" She watched as his eyes darted around the room, avoiding the question. "The answer is a big fat zero." She stopped wagging her pen at him. "What gives, stud? You love her, you told me that yourself."

"It's not that easy," Derek replied.

"Oh, but it is," she quickly countered. "Wasn't it Emily who asked you to stay the night with her in that hotel room on her birthday?"

His brows formed a deep V at the bridge of his nose. "I told you that?"

"Yes you did," she nodded. "Derek, you were crushed by her death. Hell, you didn't even believe she was dead, and you were right. You've barely left her side since she was found. I know you love her; you told me your mother knows that you love her. I'm sure Reid knows you love her, and probably the rest of the team. Although, Hotch would probably rather go down on a sinking ship than admit he knows it. So, why are you still moping around here like a lost puppy?"

Derek sighed heavily. "She's been through so much recently."

"Damn right," Garcia agreed. "Emily has been to hell and is still clawing her way back. Don't you think she might like to know there's someone who loves her and will be there for her no matter what?"

"I don't know," he shrugged.

Garcia groaned in frustration, got to her feet, physically turned him around and pushed him toward the door. "Get out of my office. I don't want to see you again until your head is screwed on right."

"Penelope…" Morgan tried to protest.

"No! Don't even try preaching to this choir. Go! Get! Shoo!" she pushed him again until he was out in the hall.

Morgan watched the door close in his face.

xxx

As he walked down the hospital corridor, the work day behind him, Derek realized that Garcia was right. Love was a risk he'd never let himself consider before Emily had walked into his life. But that night in her hotel room seemed like another lifetime ago. And he didn't want to push her. Morgan wouldn't be bullied by Garcia. He knocked on Emily's door and resolved to be her friend, like always.

She invited him in. "Are you leaving on another case?" Emily asked, watching as he sat a duffle bag down on the chair beside her bed.

"No," Morgan responded. "I…" something caught his eye before he could finish explaining the bag. Derek spotted a fishbowl on the rolling table positioned over her bed. "Is that a Betta fish? Where did he come from?" Morgan gently tapped the glass bowl and the turquoise fish swam to the surface, fins twitching.

Emily nodded. "My mother bought me a fish," she revealed.

"Okay…" Derek looked to her for further explanation.

"She claims I wanted a fish when I was seven years old and she never got me one because we traveled too much to have pets," Emily relayed, pressing a finger against the bowl. She couldn't help smile when the Betta swam toward her.

Morgan grinned too, happy to see Emily enjoying her pet. "You don't remember that?" he asked.

Her smile faded a little. "I remember that it was Erica who wanted the fish, but I didn't tell her that."

"She's really trying," Derek replied.

"I know," Emily agreed. She'd had several long conversations with her mother over the last few months and it had been hard at first, but refreshing too. It felt like she was finally getting to know the woman. "And…" The fish continued to dance where her finger was pushed against the bowl. "It's nice to have something lively in this room."

Derek grinned. "Does he have a name?"

Emily chuckled. "I was thinking about, Oscar. As in, the grouch. He is greenish and…" she aimed her gaze at Derek. "I know what all the nurses call me behind my back. And, yes, I've been a little grouchy, but I've been here for three months and I'm sick of it. I can walk now." She easily caught the questioning look on his face. "With a little help from a cane." Again his look caused her to admit the truth. "Alright, with that walker and someone at my side."

He sat down on the edge of her bed. "You're doing great, Em. And you've shown amazing restraint, because even I think some of those nurses are a pain in the butt," he confessed. "But a lot of them have been really good to you."

"They have," she admitted. "I just want to get out of here."

"Then maybe we should do something more to speed the process along," Derek suggested.

"Like what?"

Morgan grabbed the bag and unzipped it. He pulled out two items of clothing and handed them to her. "I found out the therapy pool is free for a few hours tonight. They let me sign us up for an hour. We'll have it all to ourselves. I know you've been upset about not being able to get out and swim or do other things this summer. I don't imagine this is exactly the swim you had in mind, but…"

"It sounds great," Emily jumped on the idea as she examined the swim attire he'd obtained for her; a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "Thank you for this," she held the shirt up. One thing she agreed with her doctors on was waiting for plastic surgery until after she was fully recovered.

"You're welcome," Derek pulled his swim trunks out. "Nurse Malcolm will be in shortly to help you change, if that's okay?"

Emily nodded. "She's one of the good ones."

Twenty minutes later they were down in the pool room. Derek jumped into the warm water, sporting dark blue swim shorts and a bare chest. He waited at the bottom of the steps for Emily as the nurse helped her down. Morgan took over at the half way point, putting his hands around her waist as she took three careful steps the rest of the way in. He smiled the whole time, immensely proud of each little step she took.

"I'll be back in an hour," the red-headed nurse let them know before taking her leave.

Derek took bouncy steps through the water, guiding Emily toward the parallel bars that were bolted to the bottom of the pool. "The water helps keep you buoyant, right?" he asked.

"It does," Emily was impressed by how easily she was able to get around with just her hands on the bars and a little support from Derek. She hadn't felt that free in a very long time and enjoyed the moment. When she reached the end, Derek helped her turn around and walk back. They did that circuit several more times until she decided to take a short break. "Will you help me float?"

He readily agreed and led her away from the safety of the metal bars. Morgan watched as she floated atop the water with only his hands beneath her as a safety net. Emily closed her eyes, and her hair fanned out around her head, creating a dark halo that only seemed to reinforce his belief in her angelic qualities. For several minutes, standing there beside her in the silent room, his worries and doubts faded away.

The moment slipped away too soon, but Morgan was happy to help as she did more work on the bars. "Is Hotch mad at me?" Emily asked as they made a turn.

"What?" the question threw him for a second. "Why would you think that?"

"Because everyone else on the team has come to visit me except him," she replied.

"Really?"

"Really," Emily confirmed.

Morgan shrugged. He walked backward in front of her, his hands on hers as she propelled her legs forward. "Well, you know he stays pretty busy with work. And he's trying really hard to make things work with Haley this time."

"Haley?" she paused for a moment, looking up. "The two of them are back together?"

"I keep forgetting you weren't around for most of that," he helped her get going again after losing some momentum in her pause. "You know what happened with the Reaper getting to her and Jack. I guess it brought them closer. Of course, they always loved each other. That was never their problem."

"It was the job," Emily concluded.

Derek nodded. "But it was also the job that helped save her and Jack. I think she's trying to see things with a new perspective. Thankfully, you and I both already know what the job entails," he didn't even realize the implication of his words until they'd exited his mouth. "I mean, it doesn't have to interfere with our friendship." For the first time, the word friendship didn't seem like quite enough in his mind. He really did want more.

Emily remained quiet, though, as she concentrated on each step she took. She didn't acknowledge the powerful undertone of his words, at least, she tried hard not to. But it was very difficult to deny the feel of his hands against her waist as they came to the turning point at the end of the bars. They held her steady with brute strength, but were soft to the touch. And when they brushed against the bare skin of her belly, her stomach flopped.

He didn't help her make the turn. Instead, Derek eased her body closer to his and leaned down to kiss her. His lips pressed against hers, soft and willing, but her body went rigid, frozen in place, and not just because she couldn't walk very well. She made no move to kiss him back and Morgan retreated, realizing the result of the risk he'd taken. "Emily, I…"

"I want to go," she didn't let him finish.

"We still have fifteen minutes left," he tried a different tactic to keep her close a little longer.

She shook her head. "I want to go now," Emily insisted.

Derek swallowed his wounded pride and guided her back to the stairs. He helped her up and into the wheelchair, then called for the nurse to return. Emily remained silent the whole time, barely even looking at him. As he watched the nurse wheel her off, Morgan wasn't sure what had just happened. It felt like more than just a rejection. Her spirit had deflated and it made no sense to him. It was starting to feel like the old adage, two steps forward and one step back. Or maybe the other way around.

xxx

The team gathered for their weekly meeting to discus new developments in their ongoing search for Andrew Carlyle. But, for almost two months, they'd had nothing new to go over. The information they'd gotten out of his brothers didn't amount to much, only that Andrew had inherited a very large sum of money and property from his real father, most of which had been sold off. Garcia had discovered a few business holdings that were still viable, but nothing that had led directly to Carlyle's whereabouts.

"It's like we're back in Quincy, waiting for him to kill again so we have something to go on," Rossi lamented.

Derek sighed. "Actually, it feels more like he's setting another trap."

"He probably is," Reid responded.

Hotch tried to dissuade the doom and gloom talk. "There's nothing classic about his behavior. He's all over the board, which makes him slippery. And he's going to slip in our favor, sooner or later. There's no way he can keep his frustrations locked up for much longer."

JJ entered, arriving a little late. She was carrying a large stack of files that Reid helped her set down on the table. "We've been getting all sorts of reports on missing women and deaths that are similar to Carlyle's pattern. I'm trying to sort through them all, but the precincts are being hyper vigilant. I think our profile scared them."

"Good," Hotch replied, taking a file off the top of the stack. "We need them to be alert. Spread the files around, we can all help go through them and determine which ones we think might actually be Carlyle."

After just a few minutes of scanning, Dave looked up. "Half of the cases I've glanced at so far are single murders," he noted.

"After losing Emily, wouldn't he be more likely to go after just one woman at a time?" JJ asked.

"I doubt it; he finds comfort in what he knows," Reid answered. "Taking and killing two at a time is still familiar and fulfilling to him."

"Fulfilling?" Morgan scoffed. "He won't be satisfied until he gets Emily back, and even that's a stretch. This guy will doubtfully ever be satisfied. If he'd managed to break Emily, he would have moved on to some other form of the fantasy, maybe some way to perfect her. From what Emily has told us, he seems to be chasing an unattainable goal, a perfect wife; probably a woman that his mind can't even grasp."

Dave flipped through his share of files some more. "If any of these murders are him, he's still not sexually assaulting them and is killing mostly by strangulation. None of them have been stabbed, which would make more sense for an escalation. The cutting he did on Emily practically screams of impotence."

"Not really," Reid shook his head.

"Not really?" Rossi questioned. "What do you have to back that up, doctor? We know he couldn't get his wife pregnant."

Spencer didn't bat an eye as he continued to search his own files. "Actually, they hired a surrogate which suggests the fertility problem was with Allison Carlyle, not Andrew."

Rossi couldn't dispute that. "So, what does that tell us?"

"It's not about sex," Reid spoke up again. "The only cutting he did was messages to Emily. And she said he was teaching her lessons; love, honor and obey. He did that for six months, which means he's patient. It's never been about sex for him," he repeated. "It's about love, or at least his skewed version of love."

"Obsession is not love," Derek pointed out.

"It is in his mind," a new voice joined their conversation.

They all turned to see Emily standing in the doorway. She wore dark slacks and a short-sleeved aqua blouse. Her face, thighs and waist had filled out a great deal, nearly returning her to her previous weight. Aside from the way she leaned heavily against the cane in her right hand, she looked ready for business as usual. "Did you walk up those stairs by yourself?" JJ asked, indicating the short stairway up to the BAU room.

"Yep."

"That's great," Reid grinned as he offered her his chair.

Rossi smiled as he watched her sit down. "So, the doctor finally sprung you?"

"Not exactly, I signed myself out," Emily admitted.

Reid frowned. "Against doctor's orders?"

"Yes, but I was only able to stay there that long because of my mother's money. And, trust me; if I'd stayed any longer it would have been hazardous to _their_ health. Also, I finally got this," Emily produced a piece of paper. "I'm officially alive again. I can get new picture ID and find a place to live. My mother sold my brownstone and now some young married couple is living there, I can't exactly kick them out."

"You're going to do all that today?" JJ asked.

Emily nodded. "Yes."

"You're not going alone," Derek finally spoke up. He couldn't hide his worry, even if they hadn't talked in several days.

She answered without facing him. "Nope. My mother is going with me, and I doubt I could go to the bathroom without Liam tagging along," Emily rolled her eyes and inclined her head toward the door where the man in question was standing guard. She caught a glance at an open file in front of JJ. "Is he doing that?" There was no need to mention who the he was that she referred to.

"Maybe," Hotch answered. "Can you tell us more about what happened when you were with Carlyle?

"Most of the time he would show me pictures of events in our life; our supposed wedding, the birth of our daughter. He'd go into great detail about our life together, telling me intimate things he probably shared with his real wife. He tried to suck me into his fantasy world."

"Did you ever play along?" Reid asked.

Emily sighed. "Some days I was so tired and weak that I'd agree with him; tell him I remembered those events. He liked when I told him the day our daughter was born was the happiest day of my life." She bit into her lower lip to keep her emotions in check. "It would satisfy him, for a while."

"What about the phone calls he had you make?" Dave questioned.

"He wanted me to believe the people I knew had moved on; to hear their voices and know I'd never be safe in that world again," Emily informed them.

Reid tapped the file in front of him. "It seems odd that he wouldn't try to contact you now, after losing you."

"Maybe he has," she whispered.

Hotch regarded her a moment. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Emily retreated.

"You wouldn't have said anything if you didn't know," Rossi pushed her. "Emily, has he contacted you?"

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I got a call one morning. He said we'd be together again. But…"

"But what? When was this, today? Yesterday?" Derek frantically asked.

"Two months ago," Emily revealed.

Everyone looked shocked. "And you never said anything?" Hotch was not amused.

"I wasn't sure if it actually happened or not," Emily finally admitted. "It was only a few weeks after I'd woken up and I was having nightmares about still being with him. I heard his voice that morning and thought maybe I was still dreaming."

"And now?" Reid prompted.

"I'm not sure."

JJ could see her friend was upset. "Have there been any other calls?" she asked.

"No."

"I want Garcia to look into it," Hotch announced. "Maybe she can track down incoming call records and get to the bottom of this." He looked to Emily. "You can go now. Thank you for talking to us."

"Actually, sir…" Emily nervously addressed him. "I wanted to speak to you about something else, privately."

Rossi cleared his throat and stood, gathering the files in front of him. "Reid, JJ, why don't we go over these some more in my office," he suggested. "Derek, you can join us if you like," Dave offered, unsure whether Emily would want Morgan to stay or not. The three of them left the room promptly after that.

Derek remained quiet for a long moment then finally got up. "I think I'll go tell Garcia about this new information." He stepped out as well.

Hotch slid into the seat across from Emily. "How are you?"

"Fine," she replied automatically. Looking at his face, she could tell he wasn't buying it. "Getting better, other than thinking I might be going crazy." Emily paused a second before rolling ahead. "Are you angry with me, for what I told you today and… what happened at Cape Cod?" She needed to hear it for herself.

"No," he shook his head. Hotch sighed, realizing that if he expected more honesty from her he should offer his own. "I wish you had come to us sooner about this call. And, yes, I was angry when I realized you'd gone against my order and headed off after Carlyle last year."

She sighed. "I guess I got what I deserved for that mistake."

Hotch looked her in the eye. "No. You did not deserve any of this. Don't think that, not even for a second. What you deserved was a few weeks suspension and a slap on the wrist from me or Strauss. Nothing more."

Emily tried to be comforted by his words, but it wasn't easy to let the blame go. "I didn't go there to kill him," she revealed. "I wanted an answer; I just wanted to know why."

"There are no answers to that question," he quickly replied.

"No, there aren't." She'd come to that conclusion too late. "And that desire flew out the window the second I saw Jessica alive. Nothing else mattered then, except helping her."

Hotch felt his heart go out to her, knowing that she'd learned a lesson the hard way. "You did your job, you saved that girl. Maybe you didn't go about in the right way, but you did what was right in the end."

Emily bravely asked her next question, the real reason she'd asked to talk to him privately. "Do you think there's any chance at all of me getting my job back? I know I'll need to regain your trust, but I still want to be here. This job means a lot to me," she pled her case.

"Technically, the job is still yours," Hotch replied. "And yes, you do need to regain some trust. Your return to the BAU will also come with some other conditions. For starters, you'll be confined to your desk. Paperwork only, for now."

"I love paperwork," she plastered a smile on her face.

He frowned in response to her false sentiment. "Nobody likes paperwork, Prentiss."

"True," she shrugged. "But I'll do it."

"You'll meet with a staff psychologist twice a week," Hotch added.

She slowly nodded her agreement to that. "What about briefings? Can I sit in on those?"

"Sit, yes," he agreed. "But you won't be out in the field until I feel you're ready," Hotch offered, watching as she enthusiastically nodded to all his terms. She was clearly willing to fight her way back to profiler status. He was glad of it. Something still weighed on his mind, though. "Did you join the BAU because of your sister, to try and find out who killed her?"

Emily sucked in a breath. He sure didn't pull any punches. "Did my mother tell you that?"

"She alluded to it, yes," his eyes implored her to respond.

"The answer is yes and no," Emily told him. "I did join the BAU because of my sister, but I never thought I'd find her killer. I ran away that night because it was all I could do, even though I really wanted to help her. That desire led to me wanting to help other people feel safe, at work, in school, at home…" She sighed. "I wanted two sisters to be able to walk down the street and not worry about who might be behind them."

Hotch was moved by her honest explanation. "You can start back whenever you feel ready."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning then," Emily replied.

He cracked a small smile. "I figured you might say that."

xxx

Morgan approached her hotel room door and nodded to Scott who was standing guard. Emily had been back at work for almost three weeks, but she hadn't said more than a few words to him, mostly good morning and good night as she came and left. He couldn't take it any longer. And, even though Garcia was still giving him the cold shoulder too, Morgan had gone to her to find out where Emily was staying. Apparently she hadn't found a permanent residence yet.

Agent Scott knocked and announced Morgan's presence to her. Derek slid inside before she could think to protest. He closed the door on Scott and caught a glimpse of her at the other end of the room. She was seated at a table in front of a large window that revealed an early September sunset. Streaks of gold and orange splattered the sky as she focused on a task that he couldn't identify.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked, moving further into the room.

Emily didn't lift her head. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

He hated when people answered a question with a question, but he gave her some leeway, glad she was speaking to him at all. "It looks like you're folding paper."

"That's what I'm doing."

"Why?"

She exhaled. "Because, there was a time when I would have smoked cigarette after cigarette if I was trying to avoid thinking about things I didn't want to think about. But I stopped smoking, so now I'm doing Origami because it keeps my fingers and my mind busy." Emily held the folded item up for him to see. "It's a crane. Symbol for long life, prosperity and good health. Wish I'd had about a thousand of these when I was locked away in that damn basement."

"Emily, you're not okay," he sighed.

"No shit!" she exclaimed, tossing the crane onto the table as she got up and leaned against the window. "What was your first clue, the fact that my back looks like Swiss cheese or that I'm sitting alone in a hotel room folding paper?" She finally turned toward him, arms folded across her chest. "I'm sorry; I don't want to yell at you."

"Then talk to me," he practically begged.

"Talk?" she scoffed. "I talk to that damn psychologist twice a week to determine if I'll ever be stable enough to do my job again. She wants me to talk about my feelings. What are you feeling, Emily?" her mocking tone stopped as she looked him in the eye for the first time in weeks. "You want to know what I'm feeling?"

He nodded hesitantly, not sure if she was goading him or not. "Yes, I do actually."

"I feel stuck," she was actually relieved to speak those words. "I know he's still out there, waiting for me. I don't feel like I can truly move forward. I also feel homeless. I don't have a home any more because I died and my mother packed my life away, just like she did with Erica. And every place I look at doesn't feel right. It really shouldn't even be that big of a deal because I've lived a hundred different places in my life. But it does matter, because that place was starting to really feel like home to me."

She gulped down a sob, her head shaking from side to side. "And that house where he…" Emily tried to calm herself down. "I used to play in that house with my sister. We blew out our birthday candles there that year. It was the last place we were ever a family, and he took that too!"

Derek went to her, not carrying if she tried to push him away again. He held her and let her cry on his shoulder the way he'd done almost a year ago. When she'd calmed down, Morgan took one of her arms. "Come on. I want to show you somewhere, it's a short drive."

"I don't want to go anywhere," she protested weakly, wiping away tears.

"Well, you're coming with me." Derek wasn't going to take no for an answer, but he knew he needed to make some concessions first. "Look, Emily… I promise I won't try to kiss you. I'll be a perfect gentleman. There's just something that I really want you to see. Please."

"What?"

"It's a surprise."

She looked a little uncomfortable. "I don't like surprises."

"You'll like this one, trust me," Morgan insisted. "But I can't tell you what it is because that would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise, wouldn't it?" He was pleased to see the smallest hint of a smile on her face. "Come on," he handed Emily her cane and ushered her to the door.

"I do," she said as they reached the door. Noticing the confused look on his face, Emily added, "I trust you."

Morgan didn't think he could ask for much more than that at the moment.

xxx

Emily admired the stained glass design in the front door and glanced around the cozy little porch where they were standing. The house was two stories with three bedrooms, but still considered a bungalow according to Derek. It was a Craftsman style Bungalow, to use his exact words. But she still had no idea why they were there, standing outside on the front porch of a bungalow in Alexandria at eight o'clock at night.

"Is this the surprise?" she asked. "Who lives here?"

"You'll find out," Derek replied as he pulled a key from his pocket and opened the front door. He held it for Emily, inviting her in with a wave of his hand and a mysterious smile.

She emerged into a spacious room that flooded with light as Derek flicked a switch. To the left of the front door was a wood staircase leading up. There was a bank of windows along the west side of the space, a stone fireplace dominated the south wall and two heavy wood columns flanked the passage from the living room into the dinning area. He silently led her further into the house, through the dinning area that flowed into a modest sized kitchen.

The kitchen windows faced onto a back yard that she could barely make out in the soft light of a patio lamp. Off the kitchen to the left were a pantry, laundry room and half bath. To the right was a room Derek most wanted her to see. "I think you'll like this," he motioned for her to enter ahead of him.

He was right; Emily fell in love with the space instantly. It was best defined as an office or den. But the room's finest feature was a cushioned window seat with a bay that looked out to the back yard. And the seat was flanked by two tall wood bookcases. "It faces east, right?" she asked. "Morning sun," Emily whispered, thinking it would be a great place to sit and read while drinking her morning coffee.

"I finished this place about two years ago, but couldn't let it go," Derek finally revealed the house's true ownership. "There were renters in here until a few months ago. I never bothered to put a new add in the paper. I think I know why now. I want you to stay here, Emily."

She turned to him. "How much rent do you charge?"

"No rent," he replied. "I want you to have the house. It's a gift."

Her mouth literally hung open in shock. "You're giving me a house?"

"A home, hopefully."

Emily shook her head. "You can't give me a house, Derek."

"I just did."

"But, it's too much."

"It's mine to give and I want you to have it," Morgan insisted. "You can make it your own, new paint or whatever you like. I just want you to have a home again."

His words caused tears to well in her eyes. "I wish it were that simple." Emily ran a hand along the maple woodwork of the bookshelves. "It's not just about a home, Derek. I'm afraid the nightmares will never end." She turned to him again. "Every night when I close my eyes, I hear his voice. I hear those words in my head, the ones he spoke to me, the ones he made me repeat, the ones he carved into my sister's back, and into mine… over and over…"

"Emily…"

"And then there's you," she didn't let him finish. "Derek Morgan, a good guy, my friend until the end of time. You never gave up on me, you fought for me, you sat with me for days and read to me, swam with me… but he's still there. You can't just cover it up with poetry, and quotes and passages from books, or even a house…"

"How about love?" Morgan blurted out the words, not at all the way he wanted to admit his feelings to her. But they were out there and he couldn't pull them back. He didn't want to retract them, or deny it any longer. "Can I cover it up with love? Because that's what I've been trying to do, Emily. Every story I read you, every poem and quote that I whispered in your ear to help silence your nightmares… What I've really been trying to tell you is that I love you."

"Why haven't you?"

Derek inched forward. He cautiously stood in front of her. "According to Garcia, because I'm an idiot," he replied. "But mostly because I was afraid you'd forgotten about that night, your birthday when we agreed to start something more. I thought you forgot, and I didn't want to press anything, not after what you'd been through."

"I never forgot, Derek. How could I when I had this with me the whole time?" she grasped the charm that hung around her neck every minute of every day. "I had you with me the whole time. I never forgot."

"Then why didn't you ever say anything?"

Her eyes fell to the floor. "I thought it was for the best." She took a shuddering breath. "Derek, when I told you I was scared of a relationship with you because the people I love always ended up leaving me… that wasn't exactly the truth. It's because of me that they leave, because I hurt them. I left Erica and she died, I wasn't a good enough daughter on my own and my father left, I made Matthew question everything he ever believed and he ended up dying for it in the end."

Morgan finally had an answer for why she'd pulled away from him. It still didn't make much sense to him, but he tried not to belittle her fears. "So, you think you're cursed?"

"I went after Carlyle on my own. I left you behind and that hurt you."

"You're not responsible for any of those things, Emily. And you are not cursed." He reached out to cup her left cheek. "You're a good person who has dedicated her life to saving other people. Jessica Zanvil sees you as a hero. And I could probably stand here and list off hundreds of other names of people you've helped over the years, lives you've touched that will be all the better for your presence in them. My name would be at the very top of that list."

He took a breath. "The first time you told me about your father leaving after Erica's death, I thought you meant for good. But I spoke to him at your funeral. He returned to your mother and you. Maybe he had trouble dealing with his grief and so did your mother, but they found their way back to one another and made things work. That says a lot in my book, because you have no idea what I would give to have my father back in my life."

Derek smiled weakly. "I can stand here and tell you all of this, over and over, but it'll just be me wasting my breath unless you believe it. You have to forgive yourself, Emily. You have to let go of the guilt. Otherwise you will continue to sabotage every potentially good thing that might come along. I can't do it for you, as much as I'd like to. I will help you any way I can, but you need to find it within yourself to _live_ and not just exist."

Her tears fell freely as she leaned her cheek against his patient, soft, warm hand. "You'll help me?"

"Of course I will, all you have to do is ask," Derek's smile brightened.

Emily let the last of her barrier down. "This is me, asking," she whispered as she leaned in and softly kissed him on the lips.

Morgan savored the brief union. He ran his hands through her hair and smiled down at her. "This is me, agreeing to help," his lips found hers again. Derek lent his love and strength to her through that gentle kiss.

She reluctantly drew her mouth away from his, but leaned against him with her hands clasped behind his neck. "I want him," Emily spoke with malice and determination.

He needed no explanation of her meaning. "Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to get in line. It starts with me, and I think Reid is second. Hotch and Rossi are probably tied for third place. Then JJ and Garcia. Your mother and father, my mom…"

"Your mom?" Emily questioned.

"Oh yeah," he grinned, nodding. "And my sisters too. You have a much bigger army behind you than you realize, angel." Derek looked down at her. "Sorry."

"It's okay, I kind of like it," she admitted.

His brows arched. "Yeah? Who knew the prim Emily Prentiss liked corny nicknames?"

She rolled her eyes. "I deserved that." Emily pulled away from him, but held his hand as they moved into the dinning area again. "So, when can I move in, tonight?"

"Uh, there's no furniture…"

"But all the utilities are on, right?" She watched him nod. "So, I'll sleep on the window seat for a few nights until I buy a bed."

"What about a blanket?"

"It's still warm enough not to need one," Emily ushered him toward the door. "All I have back at the hotel is about one bag's worth of clothes, my book and journal, all which will be easy to pack up. And Oscar, who I think will really like it on that shelf between the dinning area and kitchen. And…"

"Okay, okay," Derek chuckled, delighted to see her so enthusiastic. They reached the door. "But we're swinging by a store tonight to at least get you a blanket and pillow."

Emily consented to that as they stood out on the front porch. She gazed up at the stars for a moment as Derek closed and locked the door. The tranquil moment was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. "It's probably my mother, wondering where I am and what I wore today and what I ate," she rolled her eyes. "I swear she never paid this much attention when I was three." Seeing the look Derek flashed her, she shrugged an apology. It was hard letting her parents back into her life after years of expecting them not to be around much.

"Hello?" she answered.

"_Hello, Emily_," the voice belonged to neither one of her parents. Her face paled as she held the phone away from her ear and pressed the speaker button. "_When are you coming home, Emily? I've missed you_," he continued.

Derek squeezed her hand, lending his support. "I have no home with you," she answered.

"_You don't mean that, you're just missing me too. But we'll be together again, soon_," he insisted. "_You will never be…_"

"No!" Emily shouted, not letting him use those words against her again. "_You_ will _never_ get to me again!" She abruptly ended the call and took a deep, calming breath. Her eyes sought out Morgan as she tried to reign in her emotions. "Do you think that was my imagination playing tricks on me?"

He shook his head and pulled her closer, kissing her just above the brow line. "No, it most definitely was not. And I don't think it's safe for you to stay here."

Emily's disappointment shown on her face. "What if I have my bodyguard with me?"

"Well, Scott and Liam…"

"I wasn't talking about either of them," she looked him in the eye, relaying her true meaning without words. "And I don't mean to… I'm not ready yet for this to be more than…" Emily bit her bottom lip as she tried to tell him that she needed his love and support more than she needed a lover at the moment. "Will you stay with me?"

Morgan could hear the trepidation in her voice and he pressed another kiss against her forehead, silently relaying that he understood exactly what she wanted. He happily gave her the answer he wished he'd given eleven months ago. "Yes."

* * *

**To be continued… **


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 11

By N. J. Borba

* * *

The cabin lights were on full as Hotch continued to go over their new case. They were three quarters of the way to Seattle, Washington to investigate the murders of three people who had worked for the Puget Sound ferry system. The whole team had gone over the case for the first half of their flight. Then Hotch had suggested they get some sleep or relax any way they could, because they'd be landing at noon and he wanted to hit the ground running.

JJ was curled up in the seat next to Hotch, her head leaning against the window, eyes closed. Whether she was actually asleep or not, no one could tell. Dr. Reid was seated across the table from JJ, quietly playing a game of chess by himself. Rossi sat further up front, reading over the case again like Hotch. Emily had fallen asleep in the rear of the jet. Derek sat beside Reid and across from Hotch. He could see Emily from the corner of his eye and was keeping watch over her as surreptitiously as possible, but Hotch didn't miss a trick.

"How has she been?" the Unit Chief asked, lowering his file onto the table.

Derek shifted his gaze to Hotch. "Did you know she jogged a full mile yesterday morning? I've got her working with some free weights too, strength training."

Hotch nodded. "I know she passed her Bureau physical, and the staff psychologist reports that Emily hasn't missed a single appointment. Which is why she's here with us, about to head back into the field," he noted. "I was more interested in how she's doing. The real story, not the mask she wears for us. Tell me about the Emily she lets you see."

Morgan swallowed nervously. He knew being in a relationship with Emily went against every FBI fraternization regulation there was. Derek, Emily and Hotch had so far maintained a 'don't ask, don't tell' sort of regard for the whole thing. But they knew Hotch knew. "She's handling things a whole lot better than I ever expected. And she does talk to me about it, most of it. But," Derek paused, not sure how much he should say. "Her birthday is in four days, and…"

"It's bringing back a lot of bad memories," Hotch guessed.

As if his words were the spark that had lit the match, Emily could be heard from the back of the jet. She moaned in a soft yet frantic tone. Derek jumped to his feet and was at her side in a second. He sat as close to her as possible without actually touching. He whispered in her ear, the first words that came to mind, "_And I, hiding from many people who might want to hurt or kill me, often longed for someone to give that cry for me, to end my endless game of hide-and-seek with a sweet and mournful… olly-olly-ox-in-free._"

Morgan smiled when she instantly settled upon hearing Vonnegut's words. Then he added, in an even softer whisper, "I love you."

Emily opened her eyes and looked around, regaining her bearings. It was a comfort to find Derek seated beside her, but she had to resist the urge to snuggle against him the way she'd done many a night since he'd first declared his love for her. Morgan spent most of those nights at the house with her, curled up on the new sofa in the living room, or in her bed with a layer of clothing between them as he spooned against her. They still hadn't crossed any intimate boundaries other than kissing.

"How loud was I?" she finally asked, sitting up straighter.

He shrugged. "It's a small plane."

"Meaning, everyone heard," Emily concluded. "This is my first case back in the field and…"

"Hey," Derek stopped her; easily able to guess where her thoughts were going. "Anyone who went though what you did would have nightmares; they don't mean you can't do your job," Morgan insisted. "And everyone on this plane cares about you. They understand."

She took a deep breath to calm her worries, and expertly changed the subject. "Do you think Oscar is okay?"

Derek chuckled. "I'm sure he's fine. Trevor will feed him every day," he referred to the ten-year-old neighbor kid Emily had befriended a few weeks ago.

Morgan had come to know the boy as well, and had even fielded a rather awkward question from the kid about his and Emily's relationship. Derek was there with her almost every night, which he guessed might be confusing to someone next door. Morgan didn't like to think of himself as a player; though he was pretty sure he'd never spent the night with a woman and not had sex. Until Emily. Not to say he didn't think about that, or want that with Emily at some point in the future. But, for now, he was content to just be her tower of strength.

Emily reached down and pulled the purple spiral journal from her bag on the floor of the jet. She had embraced talking to her therapist and writing in the journal Reid had given her. It had all become easier after unburdening herself to Derek. It helped to write things down, letting them go. Derek stayed with her as she wrote for a while. Emily was grateful of his company. After a short time they decided to go over the case some more, until they landed.

xxx

Emily ran a hand over the Kevlar vest she was wearing; the letters FBI stenciled in white on the front. She checked to make sure it was secure, for about the tenth time. It had been a long time since she'd worn one, almost as long since she'd had a loaded weapon at her hip. There had been target practice the last month as she recertified for the job, but nothing of this caliber; being back in the field with a known serial killer so close. It was all another re-learning experience.

She waited with Reid beside the black SUV as they hoped to hear from Hotch and Morgan who had gone inside. The building was five stories, an old abandoned office structure close to the waterfront. Emily could see the signs for the Seattle Aquarium just across the street, and a bustle of cars and people huddled around the Pier 59 area. They'd tracked their Un-Sub, Mason Fuller, to the location in just under twenty-four hours; a relatively short time that had seemed like several days to her.

Three shots rang out, echoing through the air. Emily nearly jumped as she turned to Reid for an explanation that he clearly didn't have. Two more shots were fired, and then two more again, the sound coming from somewhere above their heads. "Reid, Prentiss," Rossi's voice called to them through their ear pieces. "JJ and I are at the north stairs, I want you two to take the south stairs. Hotch and Morgan's last known position was on the roof. We'll meet you there."

Emily looked to Reid again. He nodded. Each drew their weapon and removed the safety; held them low to their sides, aimed at the ground. They crossed the short, paved, distance to the building and the door of the south stairs. The bright light of afternoon was sucked away as the metal door clanged shut behind them. Reid and Emily took a moment to adjust their eyes to the dim interior. Emily glanced up through the middle of the metal and concrete stairwell and silently hoped she could make the climb.

She put her back against one side of the railing while Reid did the same on the other side, their weapons now held with two hands and aimed toward the top of the stairwell. A cloud of dust rose up from behind as Emily made contact with the rail. It nearly caused her to sneeze. "I don't think this place has been properly dusted in years," she remarked.

"Eighty percent of all dust is human skin," Spencer automatically replied.

Her head shook, side to side. "It's great working with you again," Emily smiled for a second before their task refilled her head. "Let's go," she ordered as they started up the stairs.

Reid took the lead, though he looked over his shoulder several times to check on her. To his credit, he never once asked if she was okay or needed to stop. They reached the roof and emerged into daylight again, readjusting their eyes a second time. The two of them instantly spotted Rossi and JJ moving toward them from the north. They also located their Un-Sub, who was standing half way between them and the other approaching agents.

Emily and Reid ducked down behind a grouping of roof top HVAC units. They both glanced over the top of the units and spotted four bodies strewn out around Fuller. Three looked to be unconscious or dead. Emily's stomach tightened as she noticed Derek was one of them, lying on his back, head turned away from them. Hotch was lying face down, eyes open and alert. Fuller had a booted foot pressed against the small of his back, and an automatic weapon aimed against the base of his neck. The other bodies appeared to be Fuller's accomplices.

Dave and JJ approached the man with their guns aimed. "Mason Fuller, FBI! Drop your weapon and let our agent go!" Rossi shouted.

Mason Fuller grinned as he pulled another gun from the back of his waistband; a nine millimeter pistol. He aimed it at the approaching agents. "I'll shoot if you come any closer!"

Spencer darted away from their hiding place before Emily could even try to stop him. She remained hidden, though, and listened as Reid announced his presence to Fuller. "You're not getting out of this, Fuller," he told the man, closing in on him from the opposite direction as JJ and Rossi. "There are three guns aimed at you, you can't take us all out."

"But I can kill your agent here before any of you get a shot off," Fuller jammed the long barrel of his automatic weapon further into Hotch's neck. "Drop your guns or he dies!"

"You're still not going to get away," Reid tried to keep the focus on him as he complied with Fuller's demand. He kicked his gun away and held his hands up. "Now, just let our agents go and we can tell the local authorities that you cooperated," the doctor spoke softly, trying to reassure the man.

Fuller laughed. "So I'll get fifty years instead of life in prison. Same difference!" he scoffed. "If I don't get away then none of us walk away," he raised the automatic weapon and aimed it at Rossi and JJ. Then he leveled his pistol on Reid and started to squeeze the trigger.

A shot rang out. And a second one quickly followed. Fuller felt his right shoulder recoil and the automatic weapon clattered to the roof before he could get a shot off. A second later he felt fire rip through his other shoulder and the pistol fell out of his grasp as well. He fell to his knees on the rooftop, staring into the face of a dark haired woman with her gun pointed at him. "Guess I was wrong," he admitted in a small gasp of breath as Hotch kicked him in the face, knocking him out flat on his back.

Emily rushed to Spencer's side and checked that he was alright. Thankful that he hadn't been shot, she stared down at Fuller. "We need to get a medic up here," she said. "He'll live to stand trial. Death is too easy an out for him," Emily concluded, watching Hotch get to his feet.

Reid radioed the ambulance they had standing by on the ground level. The Unit Chief stretched his sore back, rolled his neck and regarded the two team members in front of him. Hotch expelled a disapproving sigh. "That was a stupid thing to do," he chastised Reid. "But thank you." Hotch turned his attention fully to Emily and his face revealed the smallest ghost of a smile. He said nothing, but simply put a hand to her shoulder and patted it once before going to inspect the other bodies.

Spencer repeated the gesture of a hand on Emily's shoulder, but his smile was more obvious. Emily was grateful that neither of them made a big deal out of what she'd done. She just wanted to be treated as part of the team again. A few moments later, another hand squeezed her shoulder from behind. Emily turned around to see Morgan on his feet. There was a silver slug in his vest, which had probably caused a bit of bruising to his chest. But he was smiling unabashedly.

"Nice work, Prentiss," Derek said. "Glad you didn't get yourself killed."

"I'm glad you didn't get yourself killed either, Morgan," she replied, an equally warm smile plastered on her face. Those words were about as close as they could get to professing their love for one another while on the job.

xxx

Over an hour later, after they had been released from the scene, Morgan sat in the passenger's seat of a black SUV. He rubbed his sore chest as Prentiss drove toward the downtown police station. Reid was in the back seat, quiet as could be. Emily was quiet too as she maneuvered the slick streets. The rainstorm had started as a drizzle but was falling steadily now, causing the windshield wipers to move back and forth in a hypnotic manner. "Are you okay?" Derek asked Emily after they'd traversed a few blocks.

Emily shrugged. "Ask me again later, when my insides stop shaking," she responded.

Derek smiled, despite the seriousness with which she'd spoken. "You're fine," he assured her. "I still feel that way every time."

"Me too," Spencer added from behind.

As they pulled into the police station, Emily thought about how lucky she was to have their support. Hotch, Rossi and JJ arrived a few seconds after them. They walked into the police department together, prepared to pack up and head home, hoping for some peaceful sleep on the long flight back. Their favorite computer guru Garcia had other plans, though, as she was waiting for them on the laptop screen when they entered the conference room they'd been using for the case.

"_I found some interesting finds, my furry friends_," she relayed. "_Thought maybe you'd want to hear them sooner rather than later_."

"What's going on, doll?" Derek asked with an affectionate smile for her. He sat down in front of the web cam. Everyone else huddled together behind Morgan.

"_Well, I've been digging for a month now and coming up with nada, which is seriously not good for my ego_," Garcia sighed dramatically. "_But persistence pays off. I decided to shift my focus from Andrew to his brothers, playing a hunch. So, when I told you all that Matthew Carlyle was a computer tech on Capital Hill, I may not have been completely clear. He works with information technology, which is computers, phone service, networks; the whole gamut. Pretty impressive for an old guy_."

"Excuse me?" Rossi asked.

"_No offense, but you didn't know what a PDA was when I asked you once_," Garcia shrugged apologetically before continuing. "_But this guy is early fifties and knows the ins and outs of every major computer system known to man. He's outsourced his knowledge to the White House and even the Pentagon. I'd say he's probably worked on some of the oldest systems there are and…_"

"Garcia, back on point," Hotch gave her a mild warning.

"_Needless to say, the middle child is seriously tech savvy_," she began again. "_So, Andrew's biological daddy purchased a land-line phone company is Houston, Texas about thirty-five years ago, shortly before he passed away. Its one of the companies still drawing income for our Mr. Creepy, except they switched over to predominately providing cell service about seven years ago. The company is called TC-FONE, the TC standing for Tyler Chamberlain_."

"_Also_," Penelope continued. "_Matthew Carlyle is a major stockholder in this small cell phone provider who mass produces those cheapo, pay-as-you-go phones, which we figured is what little brother Andy was using when he had Emily contact Morgan, because I could never track the darn calls._" She took a deep breath. "_I did some poking around and discovered that Matthew has been deleting records for certain phones tied to this company. About thirty different ones in all_."

"You think Matthew has been helping his brother?" Emily asked.

"_Oh yeah_," Garcia confirmed.

Rossi shook his head. "I should have suspected something like this. He was too quiet when we interviewed them; let his older brother do most of the talking."

"And he felt guilty," Morgan remembered. "He thought there should have been some way he could have known Andrew needed help."

Reid nodded along. "I think Garcia also hit the nail on the head when she mentioned his middle child status. There are a lot of studies that suggest middle children are sort of the family peacekeepers. They typically hate taking sides and wish to, essentially, keep the peace. He probably thinks he's helping his brother."

"_Well_," Garcia broke in. "_I cracked into peacekeeper boy's TC-FONE computer accounts and discovered the name that all the phones were registered to; Jonathon Chamberlain_."

"Chamberlain is the name of Andrew's real father," Rossi pointed out.

"And Jonathon Carlyle was the man he believed to be his father until his whole identity came crumbling down," Hotch added.

Garcia nodded. "_I searched for that name and came up with an address in Houston. It's a house that was purchased about ten months ago. Further hacking into Matthew's records revealed that he's the one who located Emily's cell number so quickly. He had a program set to scan for her name."_

"And I stupidly put the account in her name when I set it up," Derek lamented.

The tech smiled sympathetically._ "There were coded text messages sent to his brother's cell that passed that information along. I can't imagine how he ever thought giving his brother this information was going to help curb the serial killer instinct._" She visibly shuttered.

"That house is probably where he was going to move Emily," Morgan concluded. "He wasn't planning to try and blend into a small town; he was going to get lost in a huge city with a new identity, and a company that would keep him wealthy enough that he'd never need to practice orthodontics again."

Hotch frowned. "How did he plan to make Emily fit into that life?"

"Leverage," Emily suggested.

JJ's brow knit in confusion. "Leverage?"

Emily sighed. "Well, I certainly would have given in to the threat of him killing more girls to keep me in line," she revealed. "But I would have put a knife in his back the second I'd gained enough trust to grab one." She'd thought about those possibilities a lot while being held for six months.

The room's somber mood was interrupted by a knock at the door. A dark complexioned female officer in uniform stepped inside. "Excuse me, Agent Jareau?" The woman was holding a file box with both hands. "These case files were faxed over to you while you all were out catching Fuller," she explained, setting the box on the table.

"Thank you," JJ replied. She opened the cardboard box as the officer left the room. The young liaison brought forth the top file and flipped it open. It didn't take her long to realize what was going on. "Hotch, he's finally slipped up like you figured he would. He's left fingerprints at a murder site. They match the ones taken at the Cape Cod house," she revealed.

"When and where was this murder?" Morgan asked. JJ handed him the file and he looked it over. "Los Angeles, September 3rd. Bethany Ryan and Hannah Morris, sisters aged 30 and 32," he looked to the others. "Not twins. Not teenagers either. Dark haired and Caucasian, though, according to the description in the file."

"Karen Turner and Abby Landers, sisters aged 25 and 28. Killed in Chicago on September 10th. Carlyle's prints were also found at the site," JJ read from a second file.

Emily reached into the box, grabbed the other files and passed them around, but kept one. "Amy and Gina White were identical twins, 17 years old, killed in Houston, Texas. September 17th. His prints were at the site as well," she finished.

Spencer read over the file he had in his hands. "Debbie and Donna Mayfield, fraternal twins aged 24, killed on September 24th in Los Angeles."

Hotch read the last file. "Judy Miller and Janice Barnes, 26 and 30 years old, sisters. Killed in Chicago on October 1st."

"The ages and dates of death coinciding on the Mayfield and White cases is a little odd," Reid noted.

"I don't normally believe in coincidences," Rossi spoke up. "But I think we already established that Carlyle doesn't give a hoot about numerology."

"Fridays are what matter to him," Emily realized all the dates were on the same day of the week that her sister had been attacked and she'd been taken prisoner. "He's starting all over again." She felt sick to her stomach at the realization.

"In some ways he's escalating," Morgan noticed. "Ten women in about four weeks and three different cities. But there are signs of devolving as well. The women in these files are older, more likely to fight back. Some aren't twins. Bethany and Hannah were missing for less than twenty-four hours. He's not taking the same time he did with the others a year ago. Cause of death is different too. The Morris sisters were each shot once in the head."

Rossi nodded, looking over Hotch's shoulder at the file he had. "Judy and Janice were also killed by single gunshot wounds."

"Same here," JJ noted.

"And here," Reid added.

Emily flipped a page in her report. "Amy and Gina too," she confirmed.

"Whatever the differences are, this new rash of deaths seems to be coinciding with Emily's birthday just like last year," Reid pointed out.

"Or maybe he's angry because she yelled at him when he called that last time, turned the tables on him," Derek mused.

Hotch nodded. "Probably a little of both. These new cases started about the same time that call was placed. It upset him, thinking he might not actually get to her again."

"But if he knows her cell number, and his brother is some sort of expert computer guy," JJ was thinking aloud. "Wouldn't they know how to find her? Or for that matter, wouldn't Carlyle have suspected she'd return to work? He'd have to know her general location based on that."

"I don't think he'll ever go after her directly," Rossi voiced his opinion. "He did that once when she was thirteen and got her sister instead. Emily ran, and he found that both frustrating and exciting. He liked it, so now he's using innocent girls and women to lure Emily rather than confronting her outright. Part of all this is his obsessive thinking that he loves her. But I'm willing to bet that part of it is thrill."

Morgan balled his fists up tight, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms. Just thinking about Carlyle getting any thrill from hurting Emily made his blood boil. There was something else pissing him off too, something they all knew but hadn't pointed out. "Ten women are dead, clearly by our guy, and these idiots didn't make us aware of it sooner? The second he crossed state lines it became a federal case. We should have been contacted."

"We'll deal with that later," Hotch tried to handle one problem at a time. "At least it's in our hands now."

"_Uh, guys?_" Garcia alerted them to the fact that she was still there on the laptop. "_Agent Baylor knows that you all are in Seattle, he's the one that sent those faxes to JJ thinking she'd want to see them ASAP_," Penelope relayed. "_He also knows I'm in touch with you right now, so he sent me some of the pictures associated with the cases. And, uh,"_ she paused. "_Well, you should see them, but maybe not Emily_."

"Show us, Penelope," Emily replied with conviction. She already had a pretty good idea about what the pictures would reveal.

The tech nodded. "_Okay, here_." Her image was replaced by five different windows that popped up on the laptop's screen. Each one was a picture of a woman's bare back and the bloody letters of the messages that had been carved into their flesh. Garcia appeared again in a smaller window. "_Just one out of each pair of sisters had this car… uh, written on them_," she relayed, her voice thick with disgust. They all knew the same thing had been done to Emily, and that she still bore those scars.

"I guess that's more of a confirmation than his fingerprints," Rossi spoke softly, mostly trying to calm his fury with his own voice.

Garcia made the pictures vanish. She was happy to do so. "_There's something else you should know. I think it was maybe too easy the way I got into Matthew Carlyle's system at TC-FONE. I'm good and usually I don't mind boasting about it, but when I think about it now, the security was rather sloppy. This guy knows how to keep terrorist out of the Pentagon's email, but he let this slip though his fingers?_"

"Meaning what, exactly?" Hotch questioned.

She shrugged. "_Maybe he, or more likely, his brother wanted us to see what we found_."

"I think you might be right," Hotch trusted her judgment implicitly. "Garcia, maybe you found what they wanted you to find, but you thought to look there in the first place and that was really good thinking. Now I need you to pack a bag."

"_Sir?_" the tech looked confused.

"I want you to fly down to Houston tonight. You'll meet Dave and me there. I'm planning to get a warrant to search TC-FONE's computer systems; see what all is really on the system, other than what they wanted us to see. That means I need you there."

"_Yes, sir. See you in Houston,_" she signed off.

"Just you and Rossi are going to Houston?" Morgan asked.

Hotch confirmed with a nod. "I want Reid and JJ to head to Los Angeles and investigate those cases," he handed out his order, looking to the two agents in question. His eyes returned to Morgan. "I need you and Prentiss in Chicago doing the same there. You both know that area best."

"And you think he's setting a trap for me in Houston and don't want to risk me going after him again," Emily replied. She regretted the words almost as soon as they'd left her mouth. But she couldn't take them back. Emily faced the firing squad that consisted of Hotch's two laser beam eyes aimed in her direction.

The team leader set his jaw tightly. "The pattern is clear; Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston. Yesterday was Friday, which means that Houston PD is probably going to find two more bodies today, if they haven't already. He's no doubt intentionally leaving his prints. And very intentionally leaving you messages. He's expecting you to come after him, luring you just like he did before. But if the idea of going to Texas is growing in the back of your head, you better tell me now because I will not hesitate to have you thrown in a cell right here in this station."

Emily swallowed the lump in her throat, sufficiently chastised. "If you think I can best serve this team by going to Chicago then that's what I plan to do," she replied.

"Good." Hotch turned his sharp gaze on Morgan. "Am I going to have to threaten you the same way?"

Derek shook his head, though he probably wanted Carlyle more than any of them, with the exception of Emily. "No, Chicago is good," he replied. More than anything, Morgan wanted to be wherever Emily was. He silently thanked Hotch for allowing that.

xxx

It was late by the time Derek pulled their SUV to a stop outside his only Chicago property. Street lights provided a view of the place. The gray duplex was shaped like a rectangular box, with a hip roof and two small concrete stoops in front of each front door. The units were not flashy at all, and not terribly cozy like the bungalow he'd given Emily. But Morgan hoped it might be less likely for Carlyle to track them here than a hotel that required names and bureau issued credit card funds.

There was, of course, still the cell phone that Emily carried. Both of them now knew Carlyle might be able to track her with that, but they also knew he might try to contact her with it. And that contact could be a very important link to the man they sought. They also trusted what Rossi had relayed about Carlyle wanting to lure her rather than confront. It was all just supposition, but they needed some small comfort to get through the days and nights ahead.

"What do you think?" he asked as they stepped inside. "It's not much, but there's a double bed in the back bedroom for you. I can take the sofa." Derek motioned toward the only piece of furniture in the living room, a somewhat tattered sectional. "I stayed here while I was… uh, taking my indefinite leave earlier this year."

She smiled, looking around. "I can see the potential, but I really miss home." In just over a month, Emily had learned to like the sound of that word again; home. "I think I just want to go to bed, anyway. No need for fancy accommodations when you're asleep."

"Nope," he kissed her forehead and pointed toward the bedroom door.

Emily looked at the door then back at him. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

He grinned. "I thought that was a given."

"I mean, in bed with me," she found it kind of endearing that she still needed to point out the obvious to him. Emily knew what a sacrifice it was for him to sleep beside her and not be closer. She wanted that too, wanted it so badly some nights that she nearly gave in to the urge. But her stubborn self-image issues were still holding her back. "You don't have to. I just thought maybe we'd both sleep better."

Derek needed no further invitation. He grabbed her bag and his and guided her toward the bedroom. It was as equally barren as the living room, with only the bed and two wood crates on either side that functioned as make-shift night stands. He dropped the bags on the carpeted floor and went to turn down the bed as Emily undressed. He couldn't help watch as she removed the comfy sweat pants she'd worn on the plane. She then covertly removed her bra without taking off the blue t-shirt.

Dressed in the t-shirt and underwear, Emily slipped into bed. The sheets were cold and the mattress not as soft as she was used to. But it had been many long hours since she'd slept properly and she imagined her eyes would close as soon as they hit the pillow. However, Emily couldn't help appreciated Derek's body as he undid his belt and slid his slacks down each leg. The black boxer briefs he wore clung to muscular thighs. And his arms flexed as he pulled his t-shirt off over his head.

He climbed into the bed and her back was instantly warmed by his broad chest. His right arm slung across her midsection, one hand resting against her cotton covered belly. He kissed her neck right were it sloped to join her shoulder. As he settled his chin against her shoulder, Emily didn't know how he could be so gentle and patient. She nearly gave into her desire then and there, but an image flashed through her head. The vision of Carlyle's leering gaze, his eyes roaming her bare skin as he drew a knife along her back.

Emily had never actually witnessed the look on his face as he'd done that damage, but she'd imagined it many times. "Part of me really wants to stay here," she whispered. "I want to obey Hotch; be a part of this team again and regain his trust. I want my life back and this job is a very important part of that life." Emily sighed. "But part of me wants to jump out of this bed, catch the next flight to Houston and to hell with the consequences."

His arm at her waist tightened a little. "Which is the bigger part?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I do know that if I did go there, if I let him catch me again then at least all of this would stop. He'd stop killing innocent women to…"

"No," Derek wouldn't let her continue the thought. "No, Emily," he whispered in her ear. He felt her whole body shake and knew that her sobs were so deep that no sound could escape her lips. It was like the sensation of watching an injured child open their mouth and pause in silent agony just before their wail finally set free. He felt powerless to stop it.

She slowly calmed her breathing and reclined further into his embrace. Emily hated to cry, hated to feel weak. "Will you tell me the story again?" she asked.

"What story?"

"About the acorn and his grandfather," Emily reminded him. "Erica and I had a nanny once who told good stories; made them up as she went along. Ms. Peterson. She was very British and went with us to Russia when Erica and I were five years old. We had trouble falling asleep the first few months we were there in the new house. The big rooms were scarier in the dark. But Ms. Peterson's stories always put us to sleep."

Derek smiled to think about a five year old Emily being scared of the dark. He wished that was the only fear she had now. "Of course I'll tell you the story." He brushed some of her hair back off her shoulder and kissed her cheek. There was nothing he wouldn't do to try and banish her demons. "Just promise me one thing," he whispered.

"What?"

"Promise me that if you wake up in the middle of the night with the urge to head to Houston, you'll wake me so I can go with you," Derek relayed his desire. "Because I don't ever want to wake up and find another good-bye note from you."

Emily turned her head to face him. Even in the darkened room, she could see a single tear trail down his cheek. Evidence that she had hurt him deeply a year ago. But his warm body remained molded to hers. Evidence that he was still in her life; that she really wasn't cursed. Emily kissed the tear away then pressed her lips to his, allowing the salt of his tear to mingle with the sweetness of his mouth. She knew she never wanted to hurt him again. "I promise," she whispered.

With her back against his chest again, Derek began the story as all proper fairytales were told. "Once upon a time…"

* * *

**To be continued…**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 12

By N. J. Borba

* * *

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Barnes," Derek said.

He and Emily exited the residence with about as much information as they'd gotten out of the Landers and Turner families earlier in the day. All of the victims had been good daughters, sisters, wives and mothers. Each of them had either held down a steady job, was in school, or, as in Karen Turner's case, was a stay at home mom. None had criminal pasts or anything remotely out of the ordinary in their backgrounds. All were just innocent victims of a mad man's killing spree.

"We only have the husband of Judy Miller left to visit," Derek announced. "But I think that can wait till morning."

Emily leaned against the passenger's side door of their SUV, her arms folded across her chest as she looked at the house that they'd just been inside. It was yellow; two stories tall with a gable roof line and white shutters on the windows. The neighborhood was not the best, but not a slum either. She could hear kids down the street laughing and playing. She also knew that Janice Barnes's little girl was inside with her father, both of them mourning their loss.

Derek joined her, his left shoulder brushing against her right. "Don't go there again, Em." His tone was soft yet warning. "These deaths are not your fault."

She nodded. "I know. I keep telling myself that. But talking to these families... I can't help wonder why I'm alive. What makes me so damned special to have gotten away from him not once, but twice, when all these other women and my sister weren't as lucky." Emily sighed, pushing away from the black FBI issued vehicle. "My psychologist says its called survivor's guilt." She shrugged and reached for the door handle, but he was blocking it. "We should talk to Mr. Miller."

"Nope," Derek replied. "We're done for the day."

"It's not even five o'clock, Morgan. We can't just stop. He's still out there."

Derek took a step away from the SUV, opened the door for her and waited until she was seated. He leaned against the vehicle again, starring down at her though the open door. "We've talked to three families today and visited two crime scenes. Not to mention, we flew out on a red-eye last night after spending twenty-four hours on another case which ended with you putting two bullets in Fuller. And now you're talking about survivor's guilt. We're done for today," he reiterated, closing the door.

When he slipped into the driver's seat, he didn't start the vehicle right away. "We already know who Carlyle is and what he's doing. Talking to these families is Hotch's idea of busy work for us, because he's fairly certain that they're going to find Carlyle in Houston."

"Which means you should be furious," Emily pointed out. "You told me how much you want to catch him."

Derek shrugged. "I did want it to be me that faced him down, but right now I'm pretty okay with Hotch taking on that task. I'd much rather be here with you, knowing you're nowhere near that monster." He noticed the look of surprise and disapproval on her face. "What?"

"I'm just waiting for you to club me over the head and drag me back to your cave," Emily quipped.

His face remained dead serious. "I will not apologize for wanting to protect you. Losing you once was nearly more than I could handle," Derek admitted. "And this isn't about me being an overprotective member of the male species, Emily. I know better than anyone that you can take care of yourself. But I love you and I just want you to be safe."

"I love you too," Emily replied. They both knew it was the first time she'd said those words, even though her actions the last month had spoken just as loud.

Derek leaned over and kissed her. It was a quick, gentle kiss; all that was needed to convey their feelings for one another. Morgan started the SUV and checked his mirrors before pulling out. "I do have somewhere to drag you," he glanced her way for a second before focusing on the road again. "When I called my mom this morning to tell her I was in town, she made me promise to drag you over for dinner tonight."

Emily noted his happy tone at the prospect of seeing his mother. But irrational fear leaned heavily against her chest. "Are we going there, now?" she asked.

He heard the apprehension in her voice. Derek reached over and gently squeezed her thigh. "Relax, you've already met her."

"Under very different circumstances," she pointed out.

"Well, to hear my mom tell it, you were very professional and kind," he relayed. "She said you helped put her at ease, made her realize you were my friend and only wanted to help. And she already likes you, just from what I've told her about you."

"Great…" Emily drew the word out, rolling her eyes. "Should I be prepared to lie about these things too?"

Derek laughed. "I only speak the truth."

Half an hour later, Emily came to realize he did indeed speak the truth. Fran Morgan welcomed her with open arms, literally. The hug from his mother was a surprise, but a nice one. Both of his sisters joined them shortly after that. Within an hour, Emily felt at ease as the five of them gathered in the kitchen and helped to prepare the meal. There was music playing in the living room that filtered into the kitchen, lending a lively feel to the atmosphere.

Emily watched Derek dance around the small kitchen with his mother and sisters. She imagined it was something they'd been doing for years. It certainly was not how she'd been raised, in large, quiet houses with cooks and nannies and drivers and parents that were rarely ever home. Her stationary watching position ended abruptly when Derek grabbed her by the hand and spun her toward him. He drew her closer, hands snaking around her waist.

In the background, Emily could hear the soulful rhythm of a song she recognized. It would have been hard growing up in the seventies and eighties and not having heard of _The Pointer Sisters_. Emily did her best not to feel self-conscious as she and Derek danced in the middle of his mother's kitchen. But she could feel the eyes of his sisters and Fran on them. And her cheeks flushed involuntarily.

Derek found her embarrassment endearing. He pressed his forehead against hers. "My parents used to dance to this song when we were kids," he spoke softly to her as they continued to sway in time with the music. "My mom would mouth the words to him as they danced. I thought he was the luckiest man in the world," Morgan recalled. "Now I'm pretty sure I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

"I don't know the lyrics very well," Emily admitted.

"Doesn't matter," Derek let her know. His lips lit a soft blaze upon hers, in time with the lyrics that spoke of: _kisses like fire_. The music ended and Emily pulled away from him. With much redder cheeks and a satisfied smile, she went to help his mother with the pasta sauce.

Fran offered Emily a teaspoon to taste the sauce that was bubbling on the front burner. "It still needs something," the older woman said.

Emily rolled the sauce around on her tongue for a moment. "I think a little thyme would compliment the sausage. More garlic too. You can never go wrong with more garlic," she noted.

"Thyme," Fran nodded. "Now there's a spice I rarely think to add."

Desiree poured noodles into a boiling pot of water. "And she cooks too," the young woman quipped, winking at her brother as he stirred the pasta for her.

"I attended several boarding schools in Europe," Emily said, having overheard the comment. "Their version of a home economics class was to bring in the region's best chefs to teach us the fine art of French and Italian cuisine. I picked up a few things," she shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

Sarah elbowed her brother in his side. "Boarding schools in Europe and fine French cooking… she's obviously way too classy for you, baby brother."

Emily handed her spoon to Fran. "Excuse me," she said softly, making a rather quick exit from the kitchen.

The eldest Morgan sister looked confused. "Do you think she's upset about what I said?" Sarah asked as she faced Derek. "I was just kidding around."

He smiled reassuringly. "I know you were. It's just… a lot of people think Emily had this wonderful globetrotting childhood. But moving around like that meant there were new schools and new friends to be made all the time. She had trouble feeling like she fit in, and after her sister died…" Morgan patted Sarah's shoulder. "I'm sure she's fine. I'll go talk to her."

"Derek," Sarah stopped him with a hand on his forearm. "Do you think I could talk to her?"

Morgan smiled and nodded. "Sure," he was happy to see her go, hoping she and Emily might hit it off given the opportunity to talk.

Sarah found Emily seated on the sofa in the living room, looking a bit lost. She plunked down beside Emily in the same casual way she would with Desiree or Derek. "Hey, I'm really sorry if I offended you. That wasn't my intention at all."

Emily turned to the woman. "I'm sorry too. I've just been thinking about my birthday, and that always makes me miss Erica even more," she revealed.

"I can't imagine losing Desi, or even Derek for that matter," Sarah chuckled. "He really loves you," she noted with a more serious tone. "I could probably count the number of times he's brought a girl home to meet us on one hand, and I'd still have fingers left over. You're already a part of this family as far as we're all concerned. But that means you're going to have to learn how to take the teasing, and the jokes and sarcastic comments. That's how we show each other we care in this family."

"A friend once told me I hide behind sarcasm and jokes," Emily grinned. "Maybe I found the right family to fit in with."

Sarah smiled too. "Joking aside, we're also good listeners in this group. You don't have to be afraid to speak your mind. Derek told us what happened to your sister and I just want you to know you can talk to us. But no pressure." The woman concluded their chat with a friendly hug.

It reminded Emily of the hugs she'd shared with Erica.

xxx

Morgan held her hand as they walked toward their vehicle. Dense fog had blanketed the land while they'd been inside. It wasn't a common occurrence in the Chicago area, certainly not in October. Everything outside had become a hue of gray. Even the streetlight illumination seemed to get sucked up in its hazy void. Derek turned to her and smiled. "So, you survived your first dinner with the Morgan clan," he squeezed her hand a little. "You and Sarah seemed chummy after your talk."

"I like her. Your whole family is very outspoken," Emily noted. "It's refreshing." She leaned against him as they continued to walk. "I guess now I know why you turned out as wonderful as you did."

Derek stopped their forward progress and placed both hands behind her neck. He kissed her, gently at first. But they both let the union grow, hungrily allowing their emotions to sweep them away. Mouths opened to one another, tongues danced and sought out all the private pleasure senses that they could find. When they finally remembered to breath, Emily took a step away from him and dropped his hand. "Technically, we're still on a case."

"Technically, our boss is a thousand miles away," Derek noted.

She frowned, somewhat concerned. "You're being awfully blasé about all this." Emily had never seen him drop his guard quite so much before.

"Well…" Derek didn't have a very good response for that, but was interrupted from giving it at all when his cell phone rang. "It's our boss," he told her, quickly answering it. "Hotch, I've got Emily with me on speaker," he announced by way of greeting. "What have you found down there?"

"_Matthew Carlyle is in custody_," Hotch's usual level-headed tone relayed the information. "_We found him tied up and locked in the basement of that house Garcia tracked down. It took Rossi nearly three hours to finally get him talking, but he spilled his guts._"

"He admitted to helping his brother?" Emily asked.

"_Yes, but he claims he was also trying to help us, which is why Andrew locked him in that house,_" Rossi's voice responded. "_After he realized that letting Andrew contact you wouldn't quell his brother's desires, Matthew set up the information for Garcia to find, as she'd suspected. He really did want to help his brother, but he'll end up serving at least a minimum sentence for aiding and abetting a known criminal_."

"And Andrew Carlyle?" Morgan questioned.

Hotch spoke again. "_Houston police found two bodies yesterday morning at Memorial park. Sisters Carly and Cara Peters had been out jogging the three mile loop on Friday evening, something they do three to four times a week after work. Only Carly's back had been marked._"

"_Also,_" Garcia jumped in. "_I gained access to the TC-FONE computer system. Andrew Carlyle has been using the company's expense account and a plethora of aliases to get around. I found flights, car rentals, and one train ticket all booked in the Los Angeles, Chicago and Houston areas, under the names Andrew Chamberlain, Jonathon Chamberlain, Tyler Carlyle, Lain Carlyle, Lyle Andrews… and the list goes on._"

Emily exchanged a look with Derek. "How is he getting ID for all this?" she asked.

"_I'm not exactly sure,_" Garcia admitted. "At this point, my best guess is that his brother's technological prowess extends beyond what we know." She paused for a moment. "_The last flight he booked was under the name Tyler Andrews; a flight from Houston to Chicago that arrived at noon today._"

Derek clenched his hands into fists. "He's here?"

"_I got a visual from an airport security camera at this end,_" Garcia relayed. "_He was wearing a Chicago Cub's baseball cap and his head looked to be shaved. The cap covered up a lot, but my facial recognition program verified that it's him. Looks like his eyes are brown now; at least they were in that shot. I got another camera at O'Hare confirming that he landed. Exterior shots there show him being picked up by a black Lincoln four-door, but the camera angles only gave me a partial plate number. I'm still running the possibilities._"

Emily took a deep breath. "The next city in his pattern is Los Angeles, but he came here. So much for thinking he won't confront me outright."

"_We've been sitting on the jet for over an hour,_" Hotch relayed. "_The pilot says O'Hare isn't letting anyone land or take off at the moment due to heavy fog. I contacted Reid and JJ. They're going to catch the next available flight and meet us up there, but I imagine they'll have the same trouble landing. If this continues much longer I'll have them put us down at the nearest airport and we'll drive the rest of the way. All I can tell you is that we'll be there as soon as we can._"

"Understood," Morgan replied. "Let us know when you get here." He ended the call and faced Emily. "I think we should head back to the duplex."

"So we can stare at the walls like frightened children? No," Emily shook her head. "There's somewhere else I want to go tonight."

Derek frowned. "Emily, this isn't some kind of last adventure type thing. Is it?"

"You think I'm convinced he's going to find me and kill me so I'm trying to live one last night to the fullest?" Emily asked. Her head shook again. "Aren't you the one who told me I needed to start living my life? If we put our lives on hold then he wins. And I have way too much to live for to let that happen," she kissed him, sealing her promise not to do anything foolish.

Against his better judgment, Derek gave in. If she wanted to make the most of their evening together, he couldn't very well say no. But he planned to use an abundance of caution while they were out. "So, where are we going?"

"The Upward Youth Center," she replied as they finally managed to identify their SUV among the sea of other fog shrouded cars. "I believe you know the way."

Derek was surprised by her response. "Yeah, I've been there a few times," he said as they entered the large vehicle and buckled up. "But I have to say I'm a little curious as to why you want to go there?"

"To check up on my investment," Emily replied.

"Investment?" he asked. That answer only sparked more curiosity.

She smiled. "That was a joke. I have sent a few checks there the last couple of years, though. So, I thought it would be nice to see how the place is doing since Sam… uh, since the new center manager took over."

Morgan started the SUV, but he'd heard her slip. "You know Sam Wadley, don't you?" Derek saw her shrug out of the corner of his eye. "I got to know Sam pretty well when I was here earlier this year, helping out at the center. I know he worked in the Chicago FBI field office before retiring. And I know you worked there too. You know him, don't you?" he asked again.

Emily nodded. "I did work with Sam. He and his wife, Sharon, invited me over for dinner a few times. They never had kids, but tried. Sam often told me he was going to take Sharon on a cruise around the world when he retired, but she lost a battle with cancer just three months after his retirement. We kept in touch after I left, mostly through holiday cards. A few years ago I mentioned the youth center to him. I guess he was interested."

"You are just full of surprises, aren't you?" Derek took Emily's left hand and kissed her palm. "Let's go then," he said, pulling out into the road.

xxx

Their laughter carried across the small, fog drenched, front yard as Derek unlocked the door of his duplex unit. The two of them stumbled inside, drunk on nothing more than root beer and infectious laughter. They had spent over two hours at the youth center playing games, chatting with the kids, catching up with Sam, and eating way too much snack food. Emily couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that carefree.

"Derek, I love you," Emily told him as he was locking the door. "But you suck at foosball."

He took the ribbing in good humor, thinking his sisters had rubbed off on her in a very short time. Not that Emily needed much help there, but it was nice to see that playful side of her reemerge. "Well, who knew you were such an expert?"

She laughed again. "I've never played before. That was beginners luck, honest." Emily held her hands up for a second, as if to surrender. "Besides, Jason and Randy kicked our butts."

Morgan nodded. "That's because Jason and Randy are attached to that table twenty-four seven, which was why I suggested we each team up with one of them in the first place. But then you got all full of yourself and wanted to play against them," he teased. Derek gave her a quick peck on the lips before he shed his jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa.

Emily removed her coat and followed him further into the room. Derek sank down on the sofa, dead center. She sat to his left, kicked her shoes off and then draped her legs across his lap. "Do you still keep in touch with James Barfield?"

Derek nodded. "Yep, James got a football scholarship to my alma madder, Northwestern. He just started his junior year there," he informed her, a little surprised by how fast time went by. "It's too bad they don't hand out scholarships for foosball," Morgan lamented, thinking about Jason and Randy. He knew some kids wouldn't find their way out. Derek turned his mind to something else, wanting to continue their lighthearted evening. "So, you play foosball, cook, do Origami…"

"I know how to make a paper crane, that's about it," Emily interrupted. "Erica and I spent six weeks in Japan when we were ten years old. It was an educational summer camp program to introduce us to Japanese culture. That's what you do as a child of a diplomat," she shrugged one shoulder in a dismissive manner.

"Japan?" Derek asked, clearly impressed. "Do you speak Japanese too?"

Emily cringed. "God, no. I learned a few words when we were there, but that was ages ago."

He ran a hand along her right ankle and then further up her leg. "So, is there anywhere in the world that you haven't been?"

She nodded, her stomach dancing at the sensation of his warm fingers caressing her skin. "A few places."

"Good, I want to take you to one of those places some day," his smile was one filled with promise. "Back to this list… foosball, origami, cooking," he continued. "Kids seem to like you a lot, you're good with a weapon, you like to swim and walk," Derek winked at her on the last point. "And…" he reached over and pulled her closer so he could kiss her properly. When he ended the contact, Morgan grinned. "You're a great kisser too."

Emily snuggled against his side, but her happy mood dipped a little as she thought about his list of accolades. "Do you ever wonder if your father would be proud of you?"

He took a moment to digest her question, a little disoriented by the sudden change in topic. "I do," Derek answered.

"I wonder what Erica would think of my job, my life. I wonder if she'd be proud of me for getting away that night. Or proud of the things I've done to help other people." Emily closed her eyes for a second and tried to think about the happy times with her sister. "Do you think they can see us?"

Derek shrugged, not sure how to answer that. "I don't know, but… maybe."

"Sometimes…" she expelled a long breath. "I like to think of life in terms of how the Tralfamadorians see the whole stream of time all at once. How they don't think about death, because they know that person still exists somewhere in time." Emily shook her head. "I can't believe I just told you that."

"Hey," Derek shifted so he was facing her. "You know you can tell me anything. And I'm not the kind of guy who's going to run for the hills at the mention of Kilgore Trout, Vonnegut or the Tralfamadorians." His smile was genuine. "Some days, I like to think of life like that too," he admitted.

She felt the tense ball of trepidation in her belly uncoil. No one in her life had ever made her feel as loved as Derek Morgan did. Her eyes locked with his as she moved closer than before, closer than she had ever dared to be. Emily swung one leg over his lap and sat atop his thighs as she kissed him; her hands at his shoulders, then his neck and down his back. "A good guy, compassionate, loves his family with all his heart," her list came spilling out in between soft kisses.

"Emily…" Her name was a moan at the back of his throat, one that spoke of caution and at the same time; desire. Derek didn't want her to do anything she wasn't ready for.

"Loves kids, completely devoted to his job," she continued, suckling his bottom lip. "A gentle poet, wielder of brute strength, and a really horrible foosball player," Emily's lips explored his neck and the area of his chest that was exposed by the v-necked shirt he wore. She slowly worked her way back up and her last whisper came in a heated breath against his ear. "My lover…" Those words hung in the air, as promise and hope rolled into one.

She slid off his lap, got to her feet and took one of his hands in hers. Emily led him to the small, barren bedroom. She felt her heart race as he removed his shirt, eyeing her the whole time as if he was waiting for her to put the brakes on what was about to happen. But Emily answered in kind, sliding her pants off. They joined his shirt on the floor, and then his pants too. Her fuchsia blouse remained as Morgan pulled her closer.

"We don't have to go any further," he told her.

Emily knew he'd stop in an instant if she asked, but she didn't want to ask. Her hands trembled a little as they went to the top button of her shirt. She felt foolish thinking about what he would see, knowing he'd already seen it at its worse. It was different now, though; their bodies meant to be explored and admired. But she bravely forged ahead, trying to banish those images of Andrew Carlyle that haunted her dreams.

Derek looked into her eyes and found her consent. He helped her unbutton the last two and pushed the pink material off her shoulders. His gaze lowered and he pressed his lips against the swell of her breasts, which peeked out over the edges of a black satin bra. Morgan lifted his head and gently placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her around. Her body tensed. "Do you trust me?" Derek asked.

She nodded. "Completely."

Standing behind her, Morgan discovered the reason why she hadn't bothered to cut her hair after being held captive. The length of her dark tresses nearly covered every scar on her back. But he pushed it aside over one shoulder. Derek's fingers deftly unclasped her bra and let it fall away. His lips pressed against her neck and moved steadily downward, until they made contact with the first letter-scar on her upper back. He continued, kissing the other seventeen with equally tender motions.

"I love you, Emily," he whispered to her. "Scars and all."

Emily turned around to kiss him. "Make love to me," she whispered in return.

They shed the last burden of clothing between them and let their bodies lead the way. Their first time together went faster than either of them would have liked; desire pouring out in quick, panting moments of time. But later that night they truly made love, exploring every inch of each other's bodies. And when they were spent, hearts racing, sweat drenched and satiated, they slept like they always did. Her back to his chest. Only this time, not a single nightmare interrupted their sleep.

xxx

Emily combed her damp hair and watched him through the bathroom mirror as he approached, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He was freshly showered and dressed in semi-clean clothes. They hadn't been expecting a diversion to Chicago when they'd packed for Seattle. If they stayed much longer they would seriously need to do some laundry. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked at her through the mirror. "Did the shower help?" Derek asked.

"It did. I'm still a little sore, though," Emily replied.

"Sorry," Morgan apologized. With her working again Derek wanted to believe that everything was back to normal, but she was clearly still healing.

She smiled, leaning against him. "Trust me… you have nothing to be sorry about."

"I love you," he told her, his hands finding their way beneath the hem of her shirt; caressing the soft skin just above her hips.

"I love you too," Emily replied as she reluctantly pushed his roaming hands away. "But the team is going to be reassembling soon, and we need to be on our best behavior."

"We should just tell Hotch," Derek countered, looking a little deflated by her rejection. "It's not like he doesn't already know." He watched her eyes, amazed that she could convey a frown with those two dark orbs and no other hint of expression on her face. "I don't plan on running around the bullpen declaring my love for you every second of the day, but there's got to be an easier way to balance this work and relationship thing."

Emily wasn't as convinced. "What part of ours lives this last year has been easy?"

"Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done," Morgan replied. There was a time he would have chosen his job over a serious relationship any day of the week. That time passed the second a woman named Emily Prentiss entered his life. He spun her around, kissed her softly and rested his hands on her hips again. "Marry me," the words rolled off his tongue without preamble.

For a moment Emily thought maybe she'd heard him wrong, but she could see the serious look in his eyes. "Isn't that rushing things a bit?"

"Four years is rushing?" he countered.

"Smart ass," Emily lightly slapped him on the shoulder, recalling that she'd said almost the same thing to him a year ago.

Morgan chuckled, but he didn't want to lose the moment. "You're avoiding the question."

"Derek," she pulled away from him again, leaning against the sink. "There are things other than just our jobs to consider."

"What things?" he asked. "We practically live together already. I love the bungalow, I'd be happy to spend the rest of my days there. You know which side of the bed I like and how I take my coffee in the morning. We read the same kinds of books, music is… well, we don't have to agree on everything. So what else is there, really? Aside from a few kids and a mini-van, I'd say we're set." He noticed the odd look on her face. "I was just kidding about that last part."

She quirked her lips to one side. "You don't want kids?"

"I meant the mini-van," Morgan replied. "I'd be perfectly happy if a kid came into our lives."

Emily sighed. "You do know I'm about to turn thirty-nine."

"Right, well… that makes you ancient," Derek teased, but she didn't seem overly amused by any of his jokes at the moment. "Did I ever tell you that my Nana Morgan gave birth to my dad when she was forty-two years old? And she had my uncle Billy when she was forty-four years old. They were both very healthy babies. Nana Morgan lived to be ninety-six years old. She had all her faculties with her to the end; it was just her heart that finally gave out."

She was touched by the way he always tried to sooth her worries, but the issue of having children ran much deeper than worrying about her age. "Reid once said that I only reveal little bits of myself to people, but never everything to just one person."

"Reid says a lot of things and we don't always listen to him," Morgan responded. "What does that have to do with marriage and babies?"

"When I was fifteen years old I got pregnant and I had an abortion," the words left her lips with frightening speed, out of a desire to tell him everything right then and there. She didn't want secrets in their life, like the lie that had unraveled Andrew Carlyle's whole identity.

Derek wasn't sure what to say. Watching her stand there in front of him, she looked all of about fifteen; scared, with an impossible choice to make. "So, this is another aspect of the Emily curse," he guessed. "You think because you chose not to have that child that you shouldn't be allowed to have any child. And here I thought you'd moved past that part about sabotaging potentially good things in your life."

She bit her bottom lip as his eyes remained focused on her. "You're supposed to walk away now. How can you even look at me, knowing what I did?" Emily had never told anyone what she'd just told him. Matthew had figured it out. Rossi knew, only because he'd guessed. She'd never said the actual words, _I_ got pregnant; _I_ had an abortion.

"Walking away is easy," Derek said. "It takes courage to stay and make a relationship work." He shook his head. "I won't lie. I believe that life is sacred, all life. But I also believe that people are human; imperfect creatures. We all make mistakes and we all do what is necessary to survive." Morgan took a deep breath. "I… I let a man put his hands on me, because I thought it was the only way out, the only way to survive," his voice quaked. "We all have regrets, Emily. Some small and some… immeasurable."

Derek felt like she had a moment ago, vulnerable and surprised when she didn't run the other way after hearing what he had to say. "When I told you last night that I loved you, scars and all, I didn't just mean the physical ones. If we ever do have a child, biological, adopted, fostered or whatever, I'm sure that will be because of a mutual decision that we make. But that is beside the point, because I didn't just ask you to have a child with me. I asked you to marry me. Kids or no kids, it's not a deal breaker on my marriage proposal. Nothing is."

Emily had suspected what happened to Derek as a boy, after everything that went down with Buford. But hearing him say it broke her heart in a hundred new ways. They had both just exposed what were probably the deepest kept secrets of their lives, in the middle of a bathroom no less. And they were still standing there; still looking upon one another with nothing but love in their hearts. "Derek, I…"

The ringing of a phone interrupted her. Derek groaned and put his hands over his ears for a moment, like a stubborn child who didn't want to face reality. He watched Emily walk into the bedroom and he followed after her. Emily handed him his cell phone. "It could be Hotch," she noted. They were still on a case, one of the most important ones of their lives. They both knew he had to answer.

Derek looked at the caller ID. "Nope, a different mother hen," he smiled weakly and answered the call. "Hey mom…"

Emily chuckled softly. But, when her phone rang a few seconds after Derek's, she almost wished they'd never invented cell phones. Figuring her call might actually be Hotch or another team member, she grabbed the phone. Emily glanced at the screen. The lack of caller ID was worrisome and she answered it with a note of caution. "Prentiss."

"_Hello, Emily_," his voice was like the knife he'd used on her, sharp and pain inducing. "_You weren't in Houston. Didn't you get my messages?_"

She felt queasy just thinking about what he'd done to his newest victims. "You're sick," Emily wasn't going to play his game.

"_I want us to be together again_," Andrew replied, not deterred by her words.

"Yeah? Well, killing innocent women is not going to make that happen," she retorted.

There was a small pause before he spoke again. "_How about kidnapping two people who mean a little more to you than all of those other women?_"

Her stomach rose in her throat as she tried to remain calm; names flashing through her head. Her parents, Reid and JJ who had been on their own in LA, any combination of Garcia, Rossi and Hotch… "What the hell have you done?"

The line was silent for another moment and she almost thought he'd hung up until a female voice spoke. "_Emily? He said he won't hurt us as long as you agree to his terms…_"

Emily recognized the voice almost instantly. She wanted to crawl through the phone line and rip Carlyle's heart out with her bare hands.

xxx

Derek opened the door to find Hotch, Garcia and Rossi standing there. With a blank expression, Morgan ushered the three of them inside his mother's place. He promptly locked the door when everyone was inside. "We got your message as soon as we hit the tarmac," Hotch spoke as they stood huddled just inside the door. "JJ and Reid aren't due to land for another ten minutes, but I wanted to get here as soon as I could. What's going on?"

"And where is Emily?" Rossi asked, scanning the small living and dinning areas.

"Carlyle has them," Derek finally spoke.

Hotch peered over Morgan's shoulder and spotted his mother seated on the sofa, but Emily was nowhere to be seen. "Who does he have?" the Unit Chief asked.

Morgan clenched his teeth, barely able to get the words out. "He has my sisters, Hotch."

That news sent a spiky wave of anger through Aaron Hotchner's body. They fought every day to help keep innocent people safe. And far too many times their lives and those of their loved ones were put in danger as payment for their service. He hated having to ask, "Do you know that for sure? What happened?"

"And where is Emily?" Garcia repeated the question that Rossi had already posed.

"I'm right here," Emily replied, moving from the kitchen into the living room. She sat down beside Fran Morgan and handed her a steaming mug. "Chamomile tea, it should help you relax," Emily wanted to laugh at those words. She knew none of them would be able to relax until Sarah and Desiree were home again. Fran Morgan was a strong woman who had weather the loss of her husband and raised three kids on her own. But Emily knew that no parent should have to outlive their child.

Fran thanked Emily, but didn't take a drink. She ran one finger around the circumference of the ceramic mug's lip while the others came to stand in front of her. "The girls and I were supposed to meet for coffee this morning at a little place a few blocks away from here," she explained. Her worried eyes stayed on Derek as she relayed the events. "I probably waited for twenty minutes before I called Sarah. When she didn't answer I tried Desiree. Both calls went straight to voicemail. That's when I contacted Derek."

Hotch turned to Derek. He could see that the younger man was teetering on the edge of a barely contained rage. "But do we have proof that he has them?"

"He called me," Emily answered instead of Morgan. She felt Fran take one of hers hands in a show of support. Derek and his mother were the only reason she hadn't completely lost it yet. The guilt she had initially felt after Carlyle's call was quelled by the fact that her family needed her. It took courage to stay. "He let Sarah talk to me for a few seconds. He claims he won't hurt them if I do as he asks."

"What does he want?" Hotch asked, though he was fairly certain of the answer.

Emily confirmed, "He'll let them go in exchange for me."

* * *

**To be continued…**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 13

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Emily picked up a framed photo that showed Sarah and Desiree caught in a candid moment. They were both laughing and looking at each other, two sisters sharing a joke or a story. She sat the photograph back down on the table behind the sofa and glanced around Sarah's apartment. It reminded Emily a lot of Fran's place, warm colors, books, pictures, comfy furniture. It was lived in, cheery, a home; a place she'd probably felt safe.

Then her eyes focused on the pillows strewn about the room. And there were magazines and books scattered on the living room floor. Things were pulled off shelves and table tops. A cell phone was on the floor near the entry, busted up; probably intentionally stepped on. There was also broken glass on the floor, mostly near the door, but shards had flown in other directions too.

"Maybe he was trying to make it look like a robbery," Rossi's voice drew her out of her contemplative state.

"Maybe, but…" she moved into the kitchen, which was open to the main room. Emily noticed a mug of coffee on the counter. "There's glass by the door, where he entered." She pointed to the other side of the room. "I picked up this piece earlier," Emily held a large chuck in her gloved hand. She pulled something out of an open cupboard to her left. "Drinking glasses like this one," Emily compared the two. "She was in the kitchen when he broke in and she threw these at him from across the room. She was trying to hit him."

"She fought back," Dave agreed with her assessment.

The smallest hint of a small graced her lips. "Would you expect anything less from Derek's sisters?"

Rossi grinned as he examined a stack of books on a desk in the living room. "These have been pushed back in a staggered pattern, like someone was leaning against them, forced against them most likely," he noted, spotting something else that looked out of place. He grasped the yellow cloth and held it a goodly distance from his nose. It was enough to catch the sweet sent. "Chloroform," he concluded.

A crunching sound brought their attention to the front door, which had been pried open and was still slightly askew on its hinges. "She get hurt?" The question came from a middle aged woman standing in the doorway. "I didn't think no one would get hurt."

"Did you hear or see what happened here, Ms…?" Rossi walked over to her.

"Harriet," she offered. Her dark eyes were curious, but guarded. "I live across the hall." She pointed over her shoulder. "We heard a pretty loud commotion. He was shouting about how she always tried to kick him out after they'd been fighting."

Dave turned to Emily who had joined them by the door. "He was pretending they knew each other," Rossi noted. "He wanted people to think it was just a domestic issue."

"That's what I figured," Harriet nodded. "So I didn't step in. Sometimes a situation can get out of hand. Innocent people are hurt. I didn't bother calling the police either," she shook her head. "They usually say they got better things to be doing than marriage counseling."

Emily sighed, knowing that was usually the case; about the cops and about the neighbors not wanting to get involved. She really couldn't blame the woman. "Did you see anything?"

"I looked out through my peep hole just the once, was curious," the woman answered. "Guy at the door was tall, decently heavy; not fat but fit, muscular." She crossed her arms. "A white guy for sure."

"What about his clothes?" Emily asked.

Harriet shrugged. "Dark t-shirt, jeans… I think."

Emily reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a still shot that Garcia had printed of Carlyle at the airport. It was poor quality but did a decent job of showing his face. "The guy you saw, did he look anything like this?"

"Forgot about the ball cap," Harriet said. "Those are a dime a dozen around here, but yes ma'am, looks like him."

Rossi felt like they were wasting time, already knowing it was Carlyle who'd taken Sarah. "Did you happen to notice if he took her toward the elevator, or maybe the back stairs?"

"I walked downstairs with my husband like I always do before he heads to work. Saw that guy in the alley closing the back door of a car, figured she did kick him out."

"What kind of car?" Emily questioned. "Dark? Four doors?"

"No, silver SUV type," Harriet replied. "But if you're hoping for license plate details like on those cop shows, I'm no good with numbers. Sorry."

They thanked the woman and left the apartment in favor of checking the alley, but their search didn't turn up anything useful. There were several sets of tire tracks crisscrossing each other. Nothing else but garbage and the smell of cat urine. Emily looked up, trying to tell if there were windows of other apartments that might look down on the area. But it all seemed futile. She pushed the sleeve of her jacket back a little and noted the time.

"You keep glancing at your watch. That's not going to make him call any faster," Rossi pointed out.

After she'd broken the news to Hotch and the others about what Carlyle wanted, Emily had relayed the time frame they had to work with. Carlyle's call had come at 7:23 am. The team had talked at Fran's apartment until 8:10 am. They'd met up with JJ and Reid at the police station by 8:20. His deadline for her answer to the exchange was due to come at ten o'clock. Currently it was 9:05, which gave them just less than an hour until he was planning to call back. "I don't really want him to call faster. I want to find something first."

"Get ahead of him?" Rossi guessed.

She nodded. "He's been jerking us around for a year now and I'm sick of it."

Rossi smiled, thinking it sounded like something he'd say. "More like twenty-six years in your case," his face turned solemn again as he watched her glancing around the scene, searching desperately for something. "You aren't responsible for this. You know that, right?"

"Now you sound like Derek," Emily sighed, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets as a breeze kicked up.

"You should listen to him, because he's right."

Emily kicked a soda can with the toe of her shoe. It skittered down the alley a few inches. "Before what happened this morning, I was perfectly happy to agree with both of you. But this… him taking Derek's sister's, this is personal."

Dave scoffed. "And killing your sister wasn't personal?"

"Oh, that was very personal," she agreed. "But he killed Erica because I got away and she was his means to send me a message. Lately he's been sending other messages, but this is different. All his other victims were together; out shopping, running, going to the movies, or whatever else it was. He waited for a convenient time to snatch them. But he took Sarah and Desiree separately. He went after each of them because he knows who they are. He knows what Derek means to me."

She took a shallow breath and shook her head. "I walked him right into Derek's life the second I gave him that cell phone number when he said I could make a call. I should have known better. What kind of a profiler makes that mistake?"

"A human one who was hoping to save her life," Rossi replied without a second thought. "You might be dead right now if you hadn't given him a number. We probably never would have thought to look for you if those calls hadn't come."

"Maybe not," she gave in a little, but didn't seem fully convinced.

Rossi regarded her. "You know it's okay to be scared."

Emily flashed him a quizzical look. "I've spent the last six months trying to get my life back, trying not to be his victim any longer… and you want me to be scared?"

"Being a victim and being scared are two very different things," Dave countered. "I think you need to admit that you're scared before you can face this bastard. Embrace that fear and use it against him. You want to get ahead of him then you have to think like him and that's a scary thing, but if you can get ahead of him it could mean the difference between life and death for Morgan's sisters. But more importantly, for you."

Emily had gotten into the heads of dozens of other Un-Sub's over the years since she'd joined the BAU. It was part of what they did every day. But getting inside Andrew Carlyle's head was pretty much the last place she wanted to be. Even though she'd gone to the Cape a year ago to find an answer, Emily didn't really want to know how anyone could justify killing a thirteen year old girl who was doing nothing more than walking home with her sister.

A thought struck her. "Water," the word rolled off her lips in a whisper.

"What was that?" Dave asked.

"Water," she repeated louder. "A year ago in Boston we made the connection that he was leaving his victim's by water of some sort. It's one of the aspects of his MO that he hasn't kept to recently. Although I guess you could argue that LA, Houston and Chicago are all close to major bodies of water. But, if he's making it personal again, then maybe the water element is something he'll bring back into the equation." Emily pulled out her phone and dialed Garcia.

"_I'm close to having a plate number,_" the tech offered as a greeting. "_Reid created a list of the most likely combinations and…_"

"We have reason to believe that he's not in that dark sedan any more," Emily informed her.

"_Oh,_" Penelope replied dejectedly. She recovered quickly. "_Tracking the sedan could still be helpful if he rented a different vehicle at the same place._"

Emily nodded to herself. "True. Keep on that, but I also need you to research waterfronts."

"Um, could you be a little vaguer please," Garcia quipped.

"The Lake Michigan shoreline," Emily responded.

Penelope made a soft tisking sound over the line. "It's a big lake. I'm really going to need some more parameters than that…"

"Do I need to draw you a map, Garcia?" Emily finally snapped. "You remember what he was doing in Boston, right? You know he was killing girls and leaving them by water features. You know that he lured me to the Nauticus Marina in Cape Cod. Use some of that information and meld it to the Chicago area. Try places with docks, or stores, or marina's. You do this crap all day long, figure something out!"

The line was silent for a long moment. "Okay," Garcia finally managed to get the one word out.

Emily caught the worried look on Rossi's face and heard the tremble in Penelope's voice. She knew her connection to Derek's sisters was clouding her ability to be objective. "I'm really sorry, Penelope," she sighed, taking a deep breath. "I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I just… please, can you do this search for me. I need your help."

"All you had to do was ask nicely," Garcia replied in a forgiving tone. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you. Rossi and I are on our way back to the police station," Emily ended the call. She glanced at her watch. It read: 9:14.

xxx

Morgan pressed his hand against the splintered wood door at Desiree's apartment. The door had clearly been tampered with. The latch wouldn't lock right. The deadbolt had been pried at and the chain was cut. Anyone with a pair of wire cutters could have done that. A chain was hardly enough to protect against a serial killer with a mission. The interior of her studio apartment revealed the rest of the story about how she'd been taken.

"I installed that deadbolt and the chain," Derek said, glancing over at Hotch who was examining something on the floor near the bed. "When my dad died I was the man of the house. I took that very seriously. It was my job to look out for them, you know?"

Hotch stood up and faced Morgan. "You were just a kid," he replied. There was a rag in his left hand that he held out for Derek to see. "Chloroform."

Derek's stomach knotted tighter. The knowledge of what had happened was different than seeing the physical evidence of it. "Take a look at this," he motioned Hotch over to the wall just inside the door. "There are marks here that look like small scratches. The paint is chipped off. Five marks in a row."

"Maybe she moved a piece of furniture recently and it scratched the wall," Hotch suggested.

"Maybe, but…" Morgan frowned as he continued to stare at them. "Desi can be a bit of a neat freak. There's no way she would leave something like that." Morgan scanned the wall and found more marks a few feet away from the first ones. Another set of five. He placed his hand against them, fingers splayed and curved to fit where the marks were. "Her fingernails did this," he concluded. "She was clawing at the wall to get away from him."

The Unit Chief stuffed down his anger as he watched Morgan retracing his sister's steps. "Emily talked to them. We know they're alive," he tried to find some words of assurance.

"Emily talked to Sarah, not Desiree," Derek countered, dropping his hand away from the wall. "I thought they were okay here. The Morgan girls are strong, tough women. They don't take any shit off anyone. Desi and Sarah have been grown for a while now, with jobs and lives of their own. And they were here for mom… I thought…"

"Morgan," Hotch stopped the man. "You have been an invaluable asset to the BAU over the years. Joining the FBI and furthering your career was the right thing to do. Your family knows that and they know how much you love them. You couldn't stay here forever and protect them."

Derek shook his head, lips pursed. "But I should have been more alert yesterday. I actually told Emily that talking to the Miller family probably wouldn't help, because we already knew what Carlyle was doing. I told her you were just trying to keep us busy and out of harm's way."

"I was," Hotch admitted. "I really believed that he'd be in Houston long enough for us to get our hands on him. That was my mistake, not yours. Every time we think we've figured him out, he does something different. He does things that make him look predictable, but in twelve months, we've really only learned one thing about this guy. He's unpredictable. And that happens to be the one thing we can't profile."

Morgan glanced at his watch. It read 9:14. "We should go. I want to be there when the call comes in."

"Me too," Hotch agreed.

xxx

Derek entered the tiny interrogation room at the back of the police station, which was acting as a makeshift conference room. As if he didn't have enough bad memories of being in the place, now it had his sister's disappearance associated with it. Everyone was gathered in there, including his mother who Derek didn't want to be left alone. They managed to squeeze chairs around the small table, where Garcia took over at least half the space with her laptop. Hotch wedged in behind Derek and detective Gordinski managed to squeeze in as well.

It was only 9:21, which gave them time to go over a few things. Gordinski briefed them about having every patrol car out that he could spare. Derek had to admit he was grateful of the man's help; even after all the trouble he'd caused for him years ago. Reid cleared his throat to gain the room's attention. He pointed to the most recent picture of Carlyle that they had. "He's shaved his head and is wearing dark contacts, making his eyes brown. Besides the fact that he's as white as me, does that description fit anyone else we know?"

Emily had already drawn the same conclusion. "Derek," she answered.

Rossi's eyes widened a little. He hadn't noticed, but quickly formed an opinion on that theory. "He sees Morgan as his biggest threat in regard to winning Emily's affection."

"He takes Sarah and Desiree hoping Morgan will be pissed off enough to blame Emily for what happened." Hotch jumped to some further conclusions, still attempting to decipher Carlyle's unpredictable mind. "If he gets Morgan out of the way then he's free to pursue her without obstacle."

Derek had to agree that it made sense. He turned to Emily who was standing beside him. They hadn't spoken much since the news about Sarah and Desiree. He felt bad about that, but had a feeling she understood. There was something she needed to know, though, in case it wasn't already obvious. "He's an idiot if he thinks I'm going to give up on you for any reason. He can do his worst, but I won't stop until he's been stopped," Derek vowed.

Emily knew his words were meant to reassure her more than anything else. She also realized he had all but just told the entire room how he truly felt about her. It was strange having it so out in the open, but also a relief. "Garcia is doing a search of all parks and harbors along the waterfront," she spoke up, getting back to the job at hand. "I have a feeling he'll choose a location by the lake. He keeps going back to that connection with me."

"Good thinking," Hotch said. "Whatever he has planned, he's got to know there's no way out this time."

"I have to go to him by myself," Emily replied.

Morgan's head shook emphatically. "No way," he made his position on the matter very clear.

She faced him, keenly aware of everyone's eyes on them. "Derek..." Emily glanced across the room to where his mother was seated beside Reid. The older woman was smart enough to know what was going on. She'd been married to a cop for several years. "He doesn't give a damn about your sisters or what happens to them. He has already killed twenty-one people that we know of. If I go in alone I can talk to him, make sure Sarah and Desiree get away before you all come in behind me."

"And what if he has a trick up his sleeve like before?" Derek asked. "We know he's been to the Chicago area at least two other times. What if he's had some place picked out for a while now? What if you walk right into another trap? What if this time he decides he wants to go out in a blaze of glory, for real?"

Emily could hear the fear in his voice. "You have to trust me, Derek."

He looked her in the eye. "I trust you with my life and the lives of my sisters," Morgan insisted. "But I don't trust him to keep his end of the bargain."

"She's right," Hotch ended the disagreement between them. "If Carlyle sees us, if he senses that he has no way out then he's more likely to get trigger happy. And he'll shoot hostages first. If Emily goes in she stands the best chance of getting your sisters out safely." He took a breath. "I'm not saying I like the idea, but it's our best bet."

Derek and Emily were still facing each other as they listened to Hotch speak. She brushed her hand against his, as covertly as possible. Emily needed some small physical contact with him as she spoke. "It's too late for me to save Erica, but it's not too late for me to save Sarah and Desiree."

Garcia bit back tears as she watched her two friends and listened to Emily's words. The map that scrolled up on her laptop screen helped banish those tears. "I think I've got him," she announced. "Mitchell's Car Hire picked him up at the airport. They have records for Lyle Chamberlain who rented a silver Ford Escape yesterday. And they have GPS tracking devices on all their vehicles, which I hacked into. I just traced his rental to the Burnham Harbor Marina."

"9:30," Hotch noted the time. "Can we get to the marina in a half hour?" He looked to Gordinski.

The robust detective shrugged. "With enough lights and sirens we should be able to punch a hole through the downtown corridor. I'll be your personal escort if you like," he offered.

"Thank you," Hotch agreed. He faced his team. "Let's go."

Fran Morgan watched everyone file out, but she caught her son before he could exit. She hugged him and whispered in his ear. "Please bring them back, all three of them."

He was touched that she'd included Emily in her motherly appeal. "I promise," Morgan replied, kissing her on the cheek. He edged toward the door, but took a moment to lock eyes with Garcia. "Don't let her out of your sight," he pointed to his mother.

Penelope nodded. "I won't."

xxx

Burnham Harbor was a bustling greenbelt, home to a museum, aquarium and planetarium. Soldier field was situated to the west, McCormick Place to the south, and there were just over a thousand places to dock a boat at the marina. The previous night's fog was a distant memory as sun peeked out through masses of cumulous clouds. And a gentle breeze ruffled the water, creating a soft lull of creaking wood docks.

It had only taken twenty minutes to get there. Hotch ordered JJ and Reid to search the parking lot for Carlyle's rental while Gordinski led the rest of the team toward the harbor master's office. The small white building was situated near an even smaller marina store and fueling station. The harbor master, Jasper Daniels, was a tall, skinny guy with salt and pepper hair. He wore casual attire and exuded a friendly manner as he greeted the team outside on a section of sidewalk.

"I'm guessing you all are the BAU?" He eyed their bullet-proof vests and windbreakers, both with FBI logos. "Your tech person just contacted me," the man announced. "I found a match for the name Lyle Andrews. He has two boats here, a sixty-two foot Princess motor yacht at slip C12, and a sailboat docked at slip P27," the man relayed.

"Where are those located?" Hotch asked.

"C12 is on the second to last dock north of here," Jasper pointed left. "P27 is at the very end of the sixth dock, to the south," he pointed right. "There are signs."

"Rossi, go to the north and take Gordinski with you," Hotch instructed. He turned to follow Derek and Emily who were already headed south. As the harbor master had noted, there were signs that led the way. They passed dozens of boats until the got to the very end, right hand side. "Emily," Hotch said, not addressing the woman he worked with, but noting the name that was painted in curly blue letters against the white hull of the boat.

Derek jumped onto the small craft. He aimed his weapon and ducked inside the open cabin. "It's clear," Morgan said as he returned and stepped back onto the dock. "Maybe we should join Rossi. The bigger boat is more likely to…"

Emily's phone chose that moment to ring. It was five minutes before 10 o'clock according to her watch. She waited until the third ring before answering. "This is Emily," she decided on an informal greeting, hoping to put him at ease, if that was possible. Rossi and Gordinski came jogging up behind them. Just before Carlyle answered, Dave whispered to Hotch that the other slip had been empty.

"_I trust you've made the right decision, Emily,_" Carlyle's voice was calm and assured.

"I'm ready to make the trade, if that's what you mean," she answered.

"_Good. There's a sailboat at Burnham Harbor, slip P27._"

"I know, I'm staring at it right now," Emily revealed.

He chuckled appreciatively. "_Very good, I always knew you were smart. I assume your team is there with you, but you'll need to come alone if you want agent Morgan's sisters to live. When you leave the marina I want you to head north-east. I will contact you on the boat to give further coordinates for our rendezvous. I look forward to seeing you soon._" The call ended abruptly.

"Who does this guy think we are, the Coast Guard?" Derek shook his head.

"I know how to operate one of these," Emily pocketed her phone and looked at the boat. "It's a Balboa 26. My parents bought one when I was sixteen, it's still moored at Cape Cod."

"And you can just about bet he knew that," Rossi remarked.

"It's had the mast un-stepped, which means I don't actually have to sail it," Emily continued. "There's a small outboard motor."

Derek was still shaking his head as she talked. He finally caught Hotch's eye. "This is not what we had planned. This isn't some building that we can surround. There's no way we can let her go out on the lake by herself."

"I agree," Hotch replied as he spotted JJ and Reid rushing toward them. "What did you find?"

"The SUV is parked here, but it's locked," JJ said. "Reid and I peeked through the windows the best we could. We didn't find any sign of bodies or anything else that looked suspicious," she reported.

"But we couldn't see under the seats or into a few dark corners," Reid added.

Hotch sighed. "I want you two to go back and break in to that vehicle. There are crowbars in the back of our SUV. Look for papers that might have coordinates on them, or something that could tell us where he plans to go after he gets his hands on Emily. Go," he waved them off.

Gordinski cleared his throat. "Derek mentioned the Coast Guard before. They man a one boat crew out of a station near the Chicago River Locks, which is just a little bit north of here. The station is a joint facility with Chicago Police Marine and Helicopter Divisions. They can get a search team together and out on the lake."

"Good," Hotch agreed. "Take Rossi with you. But we need to make sure no boats or helicopters get too close until Sarah and Desiree are secured," he dictated.

"Got it," Rossi replied. He and Gordinski left straight away.

The Unit Chief faced Emily and Derek. "I stand by the decision I made a year ago when I pulled you off this case," he spoke to Emily directly. "But I know I can't do that this time, which is why Morgan will go with you," he informed them. Hotch looked to Derek and gave out further instruction. "There's room for you to hide in that cabin. As soon as you secure Sarah and Desiree on this boat and get them away, you join Emily. This guy is not getting away from us and he's not taking any more lives on our watch."

"Understood," Morgan nodded.

Hotch helped them untie the boat and held the rope in his left hand as Derek and Emily climbed aboard. "I'm going to take JJ and Reid to the Coast Guard station. All of us will either be on a boat nearby or in a helicopter. We'll be close," he told them. Hotch tossed the rope to Derek and tapped his ear piece. "Stay in touch."

Emily started the boat and carefully guided it into open water. Derek stayed beside her the whole time as the shoreline slowly faded away. He glanced down at his watch several times. Almost exactly twenty minutes out, Carlyle contacted them on the sailboat's radio. Emily noted the coordinates and altered her heading, which made a significant turn toward the south. She hoped Hotch was listening, but her hopes were thwarted by Andrew's words.

"_You can try to relay these coordinates to your team, but I think you'll find I've taken measures to stop that from happening. I convinced my brother to share some useful technology with me, guilt is a powerful motivator. My simple radio jammer means your little FBI devices won't work. And the channel I'm using now, the coast guard is only going to hear static on their end… I'll see you soon, Emily._"

Morgan punched in Hotch's number on his cell phone. "I'm not getting reception," he growled in frustration. "Can't we move any faster?" he asked.

"It's a 9.9 horsepower outboard, Derek," Emily replied, attempting to remain calm. "Sailboats can only travel fast if their sails are up and they have a good wind. All we have is the wind. He set this up specifically so I can't easily get away."

Derek resigned himself to traveling as fast as the boat could, grateful that Hotch had sent him along with Emily. "You really know how to sail one of these?"

"It's been several years," Emily answered. "And I was never very good. My dad and I once entered a race on the Mediterranean. I think we came in dead last, but I remember that I didn't mind so much. It was one of the few times he seemed interested in doing something with me, other than lecturing me on the proper courses and extra curricular activities that would best facilitate my getting into a good college."

Morgan placed a hand against her shoulder. "I imagine, under very different circumstances, this could be fun."

"We could go to Cape Cod and take my parents boat out," she suggested, grateful for the lighter conversation as they were headed toward the unknown.

"You'd go back there, after what happened?"

Emily nodded. "It's not the Cape's fault that Andrew Carlyle decided to taint its beautiful shoreline with fire and death. In spite of everything, there are still plenty of happy memories there." She trained her smile on him as the hair in her ponytail whipped around her face. "And I'd love to take you sailing there." Her smile faded quickly as she spotted a boat on the horizon. "Looks like the right size to be Carlyle's boat," Emily noted. "You need to hide, he could already be watching."

Derek positioned himself in front of her for a moment. He pressed his palm against the spot where her necklace was resting underneath the windbreaker. "I'll be there for you," he promised.

Their future sailing plans were put on hold as Derek reluctantly ducked into the cabin. Emily drew closer and could see three people on the open top deck of the larger boat. She softly whispered what she saw to Derek and he nodded to acknowledge that he'd heard her. Emily got the sailboat as close as she could and tied it to the larger boat near the back where there was a swimming platform. She stepped onto the platform and drew her weapon.

Emily took the stairs on the right, which were wider and closest. At the top she spotted Carlyle. He had a gun pointed at her, a Glock 17, like the one Derek carried. Emily glanced to her left and saw that Sarah and Desiree had their hands and feet bound and where lashed to the metal deck railing. Other than looking scared, they seemed to be okay. "Drop your weapon over the side of the boat," Andrew instructed.

Knowing she had little other choice, Emily backed toward the railing and tossed her gun. She was sure to drop it close to the sailboat, hoping Derek might hear it or even see it go over. "Now let them go," she demanded.

"Remove your jacket and vest first," he countered.

"No, let them go! That was the deal!" Emily shouted.

Carlyle shook his head and aimed the gun toward Derek's sisters. "You really aren't in a position to negotiate this point," he let her know. "Throw them over the side too."

Emily quickly removed her jacket and vest then sent them over the rail too. "Now release them," she repeated her earlier demand.

He nodded. "They're free to go. You may untie them."

She wasted no time, working at the knots as swiftly as possible. "There's a boat waiting on the lower deck. Do either of you know how to start an outboard motor?"

"I think I can," Sarah replied.

"Good, I want the two of you to get as far away from here as you can," Emily instructed. She watched them start to protest but silenced them with a look and shake of her head. "Just do as I ask." They would know soon enough that she wasn't going to be left alone with Carlyle. "Go," she told them when they were both finally free.

Carlyle grabbed Emily from behind, pinning both her arms and holding his gun against her side. He looked to Sarah and Desiree who were reluctant to leave. "Go!" he yelled. But they only left when Emily nodded for them to go. Andrew was satisfied when he was finally left alone with his prize. "Now we can finally be together," he whispered in Emily's ear. "There's nothing and no one left to stand in our way."

"Nothing," Emily played along as she heard the boat start up below them. She figured Derek had started it the second he'd spotted his sisters.

Andrew's grasp on her arms tightened. He was an inch or two shorter than Derek, but easily as strong. "You are being very willing this time," he noted.

They both watched the sailboat slowly ease away. "I finally realized that you're right, we were meant to be together," Emily nearly gagged on the words, grateful that Derek's sisters were away. She just had to keep him distracted a little longer.

"You're lying," he replied, tightening his grip even more. "Why are you lying to me?" Andrew asked with a note of desperation. "Do you know that I would watch you at those parties our families threw? Somehow you always managed to find a quiet corner to read. I loved to read too and I thought we could talk about books if I could just get you to notice me. I thought you'd be the kind of person to never lie." His words broke, like a frightened child. "They all lied to me; my family. They were all liars!"

She swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry they did that to you."

"Emily, don't listen to him," Derek finally made his presence known, popping up over the stairs. His gun was instantly aimed toward Carlyle, but the man had Emily against his chest like a shield. "He's trying to justify everything he's done. He's lying to you."

"I would never lie to her!" Carlyle shouted, pointing his weapon at Derek.

"You did lie to me," Emily let him know as she watched Derek. "You tried to make me believe we were married and that we had a child together. But none of that was true, was it? You lied to me about all of that."

Andrew backed himself against the deck rail, still holding onto Emily. "Is it so wrong to want something happy in a world that doesn't make any sense?"

Emily shook her head. "No, that's not wrong. But it's wrong to force that desire onto someone who doesn't share those feelings," she said. "And it's wrong to kill in order to achieve that goal. You killed my sister and twenty other young girls and women. That _is_ wrong!"

Carlyle kept a hold of her left arm but turned her around to face him. He held his gun lazily, daring her to take it from him. "If what you wish for is revenge, then take it."

She had no idea what he was doing. If he thought he had no chance of escape, maybe he just wanted to die. Emily reached up and took the gun, but he grasped both her arms tightly again. She wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger, but couldn't. "This isn't about revenge, it's about justice. Death is an easy out. You didn't just take someone from me, you tore apart so many other families and they all deserve a say in how your life will continue or end."

Emily's head was suddenly flooded with names, the names and pictures in files that she had looked at so many times. "Twenty six years ago there was Julie and Janelle Sharp, Katherine and Kelly Giles... Erica Prentiss," her sister's name came out in a broken waver.

"The statute of limitations won't apply for them," Andrew told her.

"There are plenty more who it does apply to," Derek said, his gun still pointed at the man. Emily's back was now blocking his shot. "Last year there was Stephanie and Stacey Colbert, Tina and Tracy Monroe. Thankfully not Jessica or Melissa Zanvil…"

"And this year, Karen Turner and Abby Landers," Emily continued. "Janice Barnes, Judy Miller… and all the others who couldn't fight back."

"Desiree and Sarah Morgan, who survived," Derek added, watching as the man barely even blinked as each name was spoken. He'd lost too much of his humanity to ever feel remorse.

Emily heard Carlyle whisper something when they were done. "And Emily Prentiss, who won't survive this time," his words caught her off guard, and she realized too late that he'd been hoping for just that. In a flash he managed to grab her wrist; the one that she was holding his gun with. He wrenched it backward and Emily yelped in pain as she felt muscles flex in an unnatural way. His other hand bunched into a fist that caught her in the gut. "You should have killed me when you had the chance," he told her.

A shot rang out.

"No!" Derek shouted; trying to determine what had happened. His heart raced as he watched a rosy bloom of blood spread across Carlyle's left shoulder. Emily had used the distraction of his stomach punch to get a shot off. Morgan kept his gun trained on Carlyle as the man remained upright, favoring his shoulder but still managing to hold onto Emily's wrist and her other arm too. "Let her go!" Morgan yelled. "You've got nowhere to run!"

Emily brought her knee up and slammed it into Andrew's groin. He hunched over but managed to grip her wrist tighter and then slammed the gun against her forehead. Her hold on the gun slipped and she stumbled backward, falling against the deck and hitting the back of her head as well. Derek's eyes followed her down and he lowered his weapon just a fraction. It was an opening Carlyle took advantage of. "If I can't have her, neither of us will," Andrew said as he rushed toward Morgan, gun in his hand.

Derek fired one shot before the man barreled into him. Emily blinked away the fogginess in her head and righted herself just in time to watch Carlyle ram into Morgan. The impact caused them both to teeter over the deck railing. "Derek!" she cried out as another shot rang through the air. There was a loud splash and Emily dashed to the side of the boat. She could see the water's dispersed pattern radiating outward, but there was no sign of either man.

The whirl of a helicopter sounded overhead as she ran down the stairs, pressing a hand against her bleeding forehead. All Emily could think of as she raced toward the swimming platform was that Carlyle had been right. She should have killed the bastard when she had the chance. "Derek!" Emily called out again, searching the water. She suddenly recalled what Rossi had said about embracing her fear. Twenty six years ago she ran away from Andrew Carlyle, but she wasn't about to run again. Emily wasn't going to let him hurt anyone else she loved.

Without another thought she kicked off her shoes and dove into the chilly water.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Part 14

By N. J. Borba

* * *

The icy chill of water inched its way up her body in a span of three seconds. Emily held her breath and closed her eyes as she felt the water engulf her fully. She sank from the pressure of the jump and waited to regain her senses enough to rise. When her body became buoyant again, Emily opened her eyes only to find that it was darker beneath the surface than she'd been expecting. But she quickly set about probing the watery vista, using arms and legs to propel her body forward.

It felt like hours had gone by as she searched small areas at a time, swimming ahead inch by inch. In reality only a few seconds had passed, because she hadn't returned to the surface for air yet. The first time she did resurface, Emily scanned the horizon in all directions. It had been at least a minute since Derek and Andrew had gone overboard, but still there was no sign of them. She sucked in another deep breath and dove under again.

Emily fed on the adrenaline rushing through her system and continued to canvass the underwater depths. Just before she was about to rise again, she spotted movement in the water a few feet in front of her. She swam toward the spot, her eyes focusing enough in the dark for her to see Carlyle with one arm clamped across Derek's neck from behind. The choke hold was accompanied by Andrew's body weight pulling downward as Morgan tried to kick upward. They seemed to be caught in an evenly matched struggle, both going nowhere.

A watery stream of blood floated upward from somewhere between the two men and Emily hoped it was only from Carlyle's wounded shoulder. She decided against going back up for air and quickly swam toward Derek, carefully trying to stay out of Andrew's line of sight. It looked like they had both lost hold of their guns, probably from the sudden impact into the lake. But Emily knew Derek had another weapon on him, the slightly smaller gun he always wore at his ankle.

She did her best to remain hidden by Derek's bulk and the dark water. Even Morgan didn't seem very aware of her presence as he struggled against Andrew. Emily felt her way down his body and lifted the bottom cuff of his left pant leg. She managed to pry the weapon free in seconds. Emily knew well enough not to try and shoot the gun underwater. She had another plan in mind; one she hoped would at least get Derek free.

With the butt of the gun turned outward, Emily used Derek as a shield and snuck up on Carlyle. The last of her held breath was fading quickly as she took her one shot and rammed the gun into Andrew's forehead, just like he'd done to her a few moments ago on the boat. Her strike had the desired effect and Carlyle's arm slipped away from Derek's neck. Morgan spun around and pinned both of Andrew's arms behind his back. He then kicked frantically in an upward motion, taking the killer with him and hoping Emily was right behind them.

Morgan gasped as he reached the surface, still managing to hold on to Carlyle. He blinked away the water in his eyes as much as possible and waited for Emily to surface. The relieved smile that graced his lips when he saw her was reflected back to him on her face. Emily swam toward them and helped him guide Andrew toward the large boat. "Are you okay?" Derek asked her.

"I think I should be asking you that question," she countered. "I heard shots as you went over the side," Emily recalled.

Derek was still breathing heavily as they reached the swimming platform at the back of the boat. "I got him in the chest. Bastard was still freakishly strong, though, holding on the way he did. I don't think he gives a damn if he dies, which I figure he's well on his way to doing." Morgan motioned for her to climb up first.

Emily gently placed the gun on the platform and then pulled herself up with her arms. The helicopter above continued to circle them and she took a second to look up, spotting a red and white boat making its way toward them. "Even without our radios, it looks like Hotch kept his promise about staying close," she nearly laughed with relief. But her worry soon resurfaced as she helped Derek muscle Carlyle onto the platform beside her. She watched as Morgan seemed to have some trouble getting up.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked.

Morgan nodded as he caught his breath in quick, panting bursts. "I'm fine, he just knocked the wind out of me and I couldn't get away from him," Derek told her. "I think I enjoyed our swim in the hospital pool a lot more than this one," he joked, trying to downplay the fear he'd felt beneath the surface. Derek turned his attention toward the boat that was still a few hundred yards out.

His mention of that day in the pool helped put her at ease, but the moment slipped away as she felt a hand grasp her neck. "Derek!" Emily's voice was a soft yelp as Andrew's right hand held her throat. His grip pulled her down to him and he stared at her with one brown contacted-eye and one his natural color of green. The green she remembered seeing through a black ski mask the night her sister had been attacked. "You can't have me too," she whispered hoarsely to him. "It's over and you've lost."

Derek pried the man's fingers from her throat as he watched blood trickle past Carlyle's lips. The chest wound had most likely filled his lungs with blood, but Andrew managed to speak a few last words as he stared up at her. "I love you mommy, daddy… Emily." With that, his eyes rolled back into his head.

She felt anger and sorrow weave together in the pit of her stomach. Emily knew they weren't his last words, but those of her long dead sister. The words thirteen year old Erica Prentiss had uttered as he'd crushed her wind pipe and snuffed out her life. In the end, those final words were the only truth he'd been able to give Emily; the admittance of what he had taken from her and her parents. A third emotion enveloped her in that second, a form of bittersweet happiness. Emily knew that in her final moments, Erica died with love in her heart.

Emily felt Derek wrap his arms around her waist and her head immediately rested against his shoulder. "She'd be so proud of her little sister," he whispered, sensing the same thing she had about Carlyle's words. "I know I am," he added. Morgan's words broke the damn she had put into place over twenty-five years ago, and Emily was finally able to mourn her sister's loss. The tears she shed were not from sadness, but from love.

The sounds all around them soon grew louder, the beat of helicopter blades above and the rush of waves that swelled and crashed against Carlyle's boat as the Coast Guard approached and tied off beside them. The first voice they heard was Hotch as he leapt onto the boat and aimed his weapon at Carlyle. "He's gone," Emily told her boss.

Hotch wasn't sorry to hear that news. He knew a trial would have given the victim's families some satisfaction, but his death would save them all from having to relieve the loss of their loved ones. He holstered his weapon and called out to Rossi, who was still on the other boat. "Get some blankets," Hotch ordered. He knelt down beside Derek and Emily, not surprised by how close they were, though he still tried to pretend he wasn't seeing it. His left hand went to Emily's shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked, though it seemed a silly question.

She pulled away from Derek a little and nodded, wiping tears away. "I'm fine."

"You're bleeding," Hotch noted.

"Just my forehead," Emily put a hand to the throbbing wound there, but there wasn't much blood.

The Unit Chief shook his head. "No, your left shoulder is…"

Emily didn't hear what else he said as she looked down at her shoulder. Her pale blue shirt was drenched in blood, but Emily knew she hadn't been shot. Her eyes darted to Derek who was still half clinging to her waist with his left arm. His face looked pale. "Derek Morgan, you are not fine," she finally noticed his bloody shirt, which hadn't looked damaged or blood soaked before, probably due to the water washing away that evidence. But now she could clearly see the oozing wound at his right shoulder. "You've been shot."

Morgan grimaced as he finally allowed himself to acknowledge the injury Carlyle had managed to put there with his one gunshot. "I didn't want you to worry. It's really not that bad, I think the bullet went straight through," he turned his attention to Hotch. "Where are my sisters? Are they okay?"

Hotch called for a medic before answering and Rossi tossed blankets over to them. "We intercepted the sailboat and a seaman took over control of the craft. JJ and Reid went along with them. They're probably close to the Coast Guard station by now. Gordinski stayed ashore, but he radioed us to say that he's having an officer drive your mom and Garcia down to meet Sarah and Desiree at the hospital. Which is where we're going to take you now," he let the stubborn man know.

Derek nodded in agreement, assured that everyone was accounted for. Two medics patched him up the best they could and then helped transfer him onto the Coast Guard boat. Emily held back as he was moved. Her body shook a little as Hotch wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She starred down at Carlyle's lifeless form, wondering if what had just happened was another dream. It was a dream she'd had many times before, finding and stopping him. It almost didn't seem real to know it was over.

"You should go with Morgan," Hotch told her, noticing the far off look in her eyes. "I'll stay with the body and make sure he's pronounced dead. I plan to escort him all the way to the morgue and watch them close the drawer."

The right side of her lips curled upward, thankful of his offer. Emily knew Hotch was as good as his word and left him to it. She was happy to finally shed that burden from her life.

xxx

Fran Morgan didn't let any of her children get far from sight that afternoon and evening. Her close watch extended to Emily and the rest of the BAU team as she gathered them all into her small home and fed them until they were almost too stuffed to move. In light of everything that had happened, Hotch gave Derek the night to spend with his family and the rest of them went to a hotel for some much needed rest.

The Morgan matriarch also insisted on boarding her kids for the night, mainly because Sarah and Desiree's apartments were both still in disarray. And given that Emily wasn't about to leave Derek's side, she was welcomed to stay too. Being curled up beside Derek on the twin bed in his childhood room was a little awkward, but both of them were so tired they had a feeling they'd be able to sleep anywhere. Yet, sleep was still illusive for a while as they tried to come down from the chaotic rollercoaster of their day.

"You and the girls had a pretty long chat behind closed doors after dinner," Derek noted. He was lying on his good left shoulder so he could still snuggle close to Emily. His chin rested against her shoulder and he placed lazy kisses upon her neck as he spoke. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

Emily could hear how worried he still was about them and tried to reassure him. "He didn't hurt them, at least not physically. They'll probably question their safety for a while, but I think they'll come out of this just fine. The Morgan clan is made of pretty sturdy stuff." She glanced around the darkened room, which had mostly been converted to a sewing and craft room. But there was still a small shelf on the wall that displayed a few of Derek's trophies. "And they've got each other to lean on," she concluded.

He detected the smallest note of sadness in her voice as she spoke the last few words. Derek knew Erica's absence from her life would always be felt. "And how about you?" he asked. "Are you going to be all right?"

She carefully turned and faced him. One hand reached up and traced the outline of the bandage on his shoulder. "As long as you are okay, I will be too. The thought of losing you was pretty unbearable when I watched you go over that boat railing. I know now how you must have felt when you thought I was dead."

"Not even close to being the same," he murmured, shaking his head a little before leaning in to kiss her.

As Derek reclined on his back, Emily gently rested her body above his. Her hands slid across his chest and linked behind his neck as she parted her lips for him. His tender, probing kisses caused her core to flutter with desire, but she pulled back, afraid of hurting him. "Derek, we shouldn't… you… your shoulder and," she tried to speak as he kissed her again. "Your mother and sisters are just down the hall," Emily finally got the words out.

"There are two bathroom walls between us and them, and my shoulder is sore but it's really not the essential ingredient to the union I have in mind," he said as his kisses grew in intensity. Derek halted his ministrations for a second and turned her head toward the digital clock across the room. "It's just after midnight and I want to be the first to give you a birthday present," he let her know. "And," he looked up at her, his voice a raspy whisper. "I can be quiet, how about you?"

Her face was flushed as she felt his lips return to their previous enjoyment. "I like a good challenge," Emily replied, giving in to him at last. That night they both enjoyed watching each other's pleasure rather than hearing it. And sleep finally came, later, when their bodies had breached the threshold of ultimate release.

Emily woke the next morning to the soft chirp of birds and the distant whine of fire engine sirens. She barely even remembered her eyelids closing the night before. As she stretched her sore muscles, Emily knew that Derek was probably even sorer, though he'd doubtfully ever admit it. Seeing that is was already 10am, Emily planned to wake him, but when she searched the small bed, she found it empty. Her heart raced as she threw back the covers, but Emily tried to remain calm as she pulled on a pair of sweat pants and one of Derek's t-shirts.

She padded out into the hall with bare feet and quietly moved toward the kitchen, figuring he'd gotten up to make coffee. The place was silent and the kitchen was dark. The living room was lit only by small, soft streaks of sunlight filtering through the window blinds. Emily sighed and moved down the hall again toward the one bathroom. The door was closed and a light shown underneath. Irrational fear made her knock at the door, even though she was certain he'd be inside.

"Derek?" she softly whispered his name, not wanting to wake up anyone else. They'd all needed a good rest.

The only answer she received was the sound of a flushing toilet and then the faucet running. A few seconds later the door swung open and Sarah stepped out. "Emily? Sorry, we're you waiting?" she pointed to the door behind her.

"No," Emily replied. "I just, I thought…" she felt a bit foolish. "Have you seen Derek this morning?"

Sarah frowned. "Not yet, I figured he was still sleeping."

Emily shook her head. "I searched everywhere and I don't think he's here."

A door to their left opened and Desiree stepped into the hall. Another door at the end of the hall opened and Fran joined the trio. "What's going on out here?"

"Derek seems to have disappeared," Sarah informed her mother and younger sister. "Have you tried calling him?" she asked Emily.

"No, I…" Emily realized she had panicked straight away, without covering all bases first. Her encounter with Carlyle had rattled her more than she wanted to admit. "I should probably do that." She took a step toward Derek's old room where her phone was, but a noise in the living room startled them. Emily rushed out there, closely followed by the others. She watched as Derek closed the door, clearly trying to be quiet as he did so. "Where the hell have you been?" Emily let her fear come out in an angry tone.

Morgan flipped on the light and banished the room's shadows. "I thought I'd be back before you all woke up," he sheepishly shrugged his good shoulder. His wounded arm was cinched up in a dark blue sling. "I figured you be sleeping in late." He moved toward Emily and tried to kiss her on the cheek, but she pulled away from him. "I'm sorry if I scared you," Derek could tell by the look on her face that he had.

"If your shoulder wasn't hurt, I'd hit you," she replied. "Where did you go?" Her voice softened a little, not wanting their first Carlyle free day together to be tainted by a fight.

He finally managed to steal a kiss from her, a quick one on the lips to let her know he was sorry. Derek faced all of them as he answered. "Last night the team asked if they could help do something for us this morning. That's why I took off so early," he explained. "We all went to clean up your apartments," Morgan let Sarah and Desiree know. "And I have a security company coming out to both places later today to install alarm systems."

Sarah hugged him. "Thank you."

"You're the best," Desiree added, hugging him as well.

When the girls let him go, Derek nudged Emily's shoulder. "Do you forgive me now?" he grinned.

She shrugged. "Maybe, a little."

Morgan chuckled and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead. "We need to get our things together. Hotch told me the jet is leaving for home at noon."

Emily relaxed, wrapping her arms around him. "Home," the word was a soft whisper against his ear. "I like the sound of that."

xxx

A sea of people maneuvered their rolling suitcases and other luggage around the small group that stood huddled together curbside at O'Hare. The cold wind whipped around them as they said their good-byes. Sarah hugged Emily while Desiree embraced her brother. Then they switched. Fran wrapped her arms around Emily next and wished her a happy birthday. Then she held on tight to her only son. "I wish you didn't have to leave so soon," she told him.

"Mom, you know I'd stay if…"

"No, no," the woman stopped him. "I understand," she stood back and cupped his cheek. "Your home is in Virginia now, with Emily. I'm happy for you, Derek. And I know how much you love us." Fran looked him in the eye and a sad smile came over her. "It's not your job to protect us anymore. It never should have been in the first place."

Derek hugged her again. "I love you."

"I love you too," Fran stepped back and took Emily's hand while still holding on to one of Derek's. "I expect you both to be back here for my birthday in a few months."

Emily found that she was really looking forward to their next visit. "I'd like that."

The Morgan women waved them off as Derek and Emily walked into the airport and joined the rest of the team. They hit the tarmac just a short time after that, making their way toward the jet. Rossi and Reid were the first ones up the stairs. JJ and Emily followed, with Garcia right behind them. Derek and Hotch were the last, and the team leader stopped Derek just a few feet shy of the stairs. He turned to Morgan.

"Do you think this set her back to square one again?" he asked, in regard to Emily's state of mind.

Morgan shook his head. "No, amazingly enough. I think confronting Carlyle might have been the best thing for Emily, as much as it pains me to say that. I believe she can truly move forward now." He had the utmost confidence in Emily, and not just because he loved her, but because he'd seen her courageous spirit shine through almost from the first day he'd met her. "I love her, Hotch," Derek decided to lay it all on the line. "And I guess if that means I need to submit my resignation or put in for a transfer then I will."

Hotch took a deep breath, finally confronted with the inevitable. "Yesterday, I heard you tell Emily that you trusted her with your life and those of your sisters. That's a level of trust I wasn't sure I'd ever see from you. And in Seattle, Emily knew you were hurt but she didn't let her feelings for you interfere with the job. You both understand this job and everything it entails," Hotch noted. "Officially, I can't condone any relationship between FBI personnel, let alone members of my BAU team."

"And un-officially?" Derek pressed.

"Keep it out of the office, and I mean _completely_," Hotch told him. "If you can do that then we shouldn't have a problem. But if Strauss gets any wind of this, I can't lie to her."

"Understood," Morgan nodded in agreement.

Hotch let his serious look fade just a little. "I won't lie for you," he reiterated. "But I will go to bat for you."

Derek smiled, knowing what a major thing that was for his boss to say. "What about the jet? I know its FBI jurisdiction and all, but…"

The Unit Chief eyed Morgan with a cautious stare. "If we're in route to a job, you focus on the job and go over the case with the team. You keep things professional," he laid out the rules as he saw them. "If we're on our way home, if we're off the case…" a sigh escaped his lips, trying to be careful as to how much leeway he was about to give them. "Then I suppose that's your time to use as you see fit. Just try to keep it low-key," he warned.

Morgan nodded again and followed his boss onto the plane.

An hour later, Emily was seated across from Reid, a chess board between them. JJ sat to her right, silently watching the game. Emily held the charm that was hanging around her neck, rubbing her thumb over Derek's inscription as she watched Spencer hunch over the chess board. His lithe fingers hovered over a piece and then he pulled his hand back. A few seconds later he finally made his move. "Check," he sat back, looking pleased with himself.

Derek walked up to the table and looked down at Reid. "Scoot over, kid," he motioned with his head for Spencer to move.

Reid frowned, but did as Morgan asked. "I was winning," he said, pointing to the board still in front of Emily.

She let go of the book charm and took her turn. "Check mate," Emily said.

"No!" Spencer squealed. "How… you…" he leaned over, close to where Derek had sat down. Reid stared at the board, trying to figure out how she'd beaten him.

"Here," Morgan slid the board toward Reid. "Have fun trying to figure it out," he chuckled, sitting back and smiling at Emily.

Her head shook, as if to let Derek know she was the only one who could tease Reid about the game. Emily's attention was distracted as Garcia showed up beside their table and plunked something down in front of her. "What is this?" Emily asked, looking down. There was a white napkin with a rather large cupcake atop it.

"It's your birthday," Penelope quipped. "Usually there is cake. This is from Derek, though, not me. I'm just the waitress at this fine establishment," she grinned and sat down on the long bench seat across from the table.

"Kind of a small cake for a party," Reid noted.

"It's just for Emily," Morgan said.

Reid folded his arms across his chest. "That's a bit rude, so is your behavior."

"He's right. It is a little impolite not to provide some for everyone," Emily agreed. She reached for the cupcake and divided it with her fingers then handed the slightly larger half to Reid. "Here, it's my birthday present and I'd like to share with you."

"Thank you," Spencer smiled as he accepted her gift and broke off a piece. He popped it into his mouth.

Garcia shot out of her seat. "But, you can't share that. It was…" she stammered and glanced over at Derek who was glaring at Reid.

"The cupcake was meant for Emily," Morgan told the younger man.

"I think you both need to calm down," Emily responded, taking a small bite of the chocolate cake as she eyed Derek and Garcia with curiosity. She looked to Reid, who just shrugged as he took another bite. Emily's eyes returned to Derek. "You can get me another cupcake later if it's that important to you," she winked and gently tapped his shin with her foot beneath the table.

Derek was still eyeing the cupcake in front of her. "It's not about that, it…"

"OW!" Reid exclaimed. "What the heck? I think there's something hard in this…" he spit out the bit of cake he'd been chewing into his hand.

"Oh, Reid… man," Derek lamented, shaking his head back and forth.

Garcia rushed toward the back of the plane and returned quickly with a paper cup filled with water. "Hand it over Dr. Reid," she waved the cup in front of him. "Drop it in."

"What is going on?" Spencer asked, dumping the contents of his hand into the cup.

Morgan sighed, noting the somewhat amused look on Emily's face. "What's going on is that the cupcake and everything inside was meant for Emily," he relayed.

Penelope's face was a little discussed as she swirled the water around in the cup and then carefully plucked out the item that had sunk to the bottom. Everyone seated at the table stared at the ring she was holding. Rossi watched from afar with hidden interest. Hotch tried not to watch, but found it difficult to keep his eyes averted from the scene. JJ's eyes widened in understanding and she grinned. Reid still looked a little confused. Derek was somewhat embarrassed, but Emily seemed to be at ease as she eyed the ring.

Garcia held the ring out to Emily for a moment and then shifted to Derek. "Uh… um…" She went back and forth for a moment, not sure what to do with it.

Derek made the final decision for her, taking it from her hand. "This is not at all what I planned."

"Well," Emily breathed out the word. "You're lucky it was Reid who bit into that, because if you'd chipped one of my new implants…" she referred to the two new teeth that had been fitted to replace the ones she'd lost chewing through a rope. "I'd have made you pony up ten grand."

"Ten thousand dollars for two teeth?" JJ asked.

Emily turned toward the younger woman and nodded. "Yep, five each. But a small price to pay for my freedom," she shrugged.

Morgan cleared his throat. "Excuse me. I was trying to have a moment here."

"To mark your territory," Reid mumbled under his breath, finally understanding what was going on. He bit his lip, seeing the frown Derek aimed at him.

Morgan got out of his eat and kneeled in front of Emily, ring in his left hand. "I know we talked about this the other day, but we were interrupted," he recalled their conversation in the bathroom of his duplex. "This last year of my life has been one of the worst and also one of the best, the best because I realized just how much I love you. I hope to hold on to those good moments until the day I die. I'm ready to dissolve my stateless existence and create a nation of two, with you, Emily Prentiss."

She chuckled softly, fearing she might cry otherwise. "Exactly how many times have you read, _Mother Night_?"

"A few," he admitted, chuckling with her. Morgan held the ring up. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation.

Derek was somewhat surprised but pleased that his second proposal had gone much smoother than the first, at least the question and answer portion. He carefully slid the ring onto her finger, trying to keep his own fingers from shaking too much. Morgan kissed the back of her hand. He wanted to kiss her properly, but had a feeling that might be a little bit over the line. Morgan had a feeling they were already hovering on the cusp of Hotch's rules.

"Is the ring part of what you did this morning?" Emily asked, looking down at the simple diamond and gold band.

He nodded. "I took Garcia with me while the others did most of the cleaning work," Morgan revealed. "Now do you forgive me?"

"Hmm…" she cocked her head slightly to the right. "A little more."

Morgan leaned in and decided that a quick kiss wouldn't hurt. But as soon as his lips parted from hers they noticed a shadow fall over them. Derek and Emily looked up at Hotch standing beside them. Morgan stood and faced their boss. "If this is your idea of keeping things low-key, we may need to have another talk," Hotch said, though he wore a miniscule smile. After letting them both sweat for a few seconds, he extended his hand to Derek. "Congratulations."

The rest of the team took that as their cue to bestow their best wishes as well. Everyone knew the BAU jet had never been exposed to that much happiness before.

xxx

Emily couldn't help glancing at the ring on her left hand from time to time as she steered the car toward home. She'd never been a big fan of rings as jewelry, and it really didn't matter to her one way or the other because she knew Derek loved her, ring or no ring. But it made her feel special in a way she'd never experienced before. She shook her head, feeling a little silly for acting so gooey. Something flashed in her rearview mirror and Emily looked up to see what it was.

"So, how many people did you invite to this surprise party?" she asked her passenger.

Morgan looked over at her. "What party?"

She chuckled at the not so innocent look on his face. "Come on, Derek. I'm an FBI agent; you think I can't tell when I'm being followed." Emily looked in her left side mirror and spotted the two vehicles again. "And for being FBI agents, Hotch and Rossi are doing a pretty piss poor job of tailing us. They could have at least taken some back roads to get to our house," she noted.

"It's been a long few days, they're probably tired," Derek gave up the ruse. He then rattled off the small guest list. "Kevin, Will and Henry should be there by now. And you parents. I invited Haley and Jack too, and Trevor and his parents from next door. I think that's all." Morgan turned to her again. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad at all," Emily replied. When the car was parked a few seconds later, she opened the passenger door for him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. It's been a long time since I wanted to celebrate my birthday. And today we have a lot to celebrate."

As they made their way toward the house and stepped onto the porch, Emily remembered her last birthday. It had been her first happy birthday in years, because Derek had made it special for her. The others joined them on the porch and they made their way into the cozy house together. A chorus of young and old shouted, "Surprise!" when they spotted Emily. She couldn't stop smiling as friends and family came up to greet her.

"Emily!" the excited voice of a young girl called out from the dinning room.

Emily looked up just in time to see the teenager barrel into her with lively exuberance. "Jessica?" Emily pulled back a little to look at the girl.

Jessica hugged her again. "I saw your fish, he's really cute," she smiled as another teenaged girl came up behind her, followed by two adults.

Morgan placed his hand against Emily's back and leaned in closer. "Oh, did I forget to mention that your mother helped arrange for the Zanvil family to be here today?" He grinned, happy that he'd been able to keep one thing a surprise from her.

She kissed him, but focused on the girl in front of her again. Jessica looked like a joyful, thriving young woman. Her lips spread wide to reveal a toothy smile. "You have braces," Emily noticed. "They look good, so does your smile," she ran a hand over the back of the girl's head and looked to the rest of her family. "You must be Melissa," she addressed the other girl. "It's so nice to meet you. Are you playing softball again this year?"

Melissa nodded and revealed her brace-clad smile. "Yep, we have a new coach. He's really cool and we…"

"Did you know that Melissa wants to be an actress when we get older?" Jessica interrupted her sister. "And I want to be a writer. I'm going to write movies and plays for my sister to act in. And did you know our birthday is in two days? We'll be fourteen," Jessica relayed. She looked up at Emily, her face a little more serious. "Thank you for saving us, so we could celebrate more birthdays together."

Emily was enormously pleased to see they both appeared to have moved on from what had happened with Andrew Carlyle a year ago. She hoped to take a lesson from their youthful capacity to heal. "You're welcome, but it wasn't just me," she replied, turning to Derek and spotting the other members of the BAU team scattered around her home. "You should thank everyone on our team; we don't do anything alone," Emily concluded.

The girls and their parents did take the time to thank each member of the team. And Emily found a moment to talk to her parents. Elizabeth Prentiss handed her daughter a gift wrapped in red tissue paper. "Your father and I found some very old roles of film a few months ago when we were going through boxes that never got unpacked in the last move. We had them developed and I found this picture. I thought you'd like to have a copy."

Emily un-wrapped the package and found a silver-framed picture inside. A tear rolled down her cheek. Two thirteen year old girls stared back at her, their dark hair and eyes shinning in the dim glow of candlelight as they stood in front of a birthday cake. Emily hugged her mother, something she hadn't done enough of in the last twenty-six years. "I love you, mommy," Emily conveyed Erica's last words to their mother.

"I love you too, baby," Elizabeth whispered.

Joseph Prentiss watched the women and waited until they broke apart. He stood, somewhat nervously, in front of his daughter. But the years of separation and tensions between them seemed to roll away. He held a small red velvet pouch in his hand. "I saved these when we went through your things last year after…" he trailed off. "Well, I gave them to you and Erica a long time ago and I wanted you to have them back."

She peered inside the soft bag and found two gold heart necklaces inside. Emily hugged her father and gave him Erica's last gift of words too. "I love you, daddy."

Derek put his arm around her shoulder, and whispered in her ear, as if to finish her sister's final act in life. "I love you, Emily."

* * *

**Almost the end…**


	15. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

* * *

**Safe  
**Epilogue

By N. J. Borba

* * *

Derek pulled the sling over his head and situated his arm into it as he descended the stairs. The house was rather dark in the predawn hour, except for one illuminated lamp where he found her. She was curled up with a blanket and laying on the window seat in the study. It had, as Derek guessed, become her favorite room in the house. Emily hadn't wasted much time filling the shelves with copies of her favorite books. He had even added a few of his own over the months. And he could see Emily's most prized book tucked in close beside her.

"Is there room for me?" Morgan asked.

Emily turned her head toward him and smiled. "Yep, as my pillow," she sat forward.

He slid in behind her and Emily reclined against his good shoulder. Derek kissed the side of her head as she tucked the blanket around both of them. "You were gone when I woke up."

"I'm sorry," she replied. "That seems to be a bad habit with us lately. I think maybe we should make it a part of our marriage vows, to never wake up alone," she offered. Emily found that she liked thinking about their wedding. More than that, though, she liked thinking about their life together. Their future.

"I imagine we could work that in somewhere," Derek agreed. "In between the parts where I promise to love you forever and vow to never miss an opportunity to tease you about being a nerd," he joked. "But you don't have to be sorry. I just missed the warmth of your back against my chest. _A fellow can't live on books_. You know?"

Emily laughed, moving her head so that she could kiss him. "You just quoted from _Little Women_," she said, pulling away and grasping her copy of the book in one hand.

"I guess I did," Morgan chuckled softly as he watched her open the book. The note she'd written him exactly one year ago was still tucked inside and Emily unfolded it. She read it aloud. When she was done, he observed her as she carefully began to crease the paper, folding it several different times in odd configurations. It didn't take Derek long to realize what she was doing. He smiled at the figure of the crane she'd created.

"My gift to you this year," Emily said as she handed the paper bird to him.

His smile remained firmly in place as he recognized the significance of what she'd done; turning that somewhat dismal message into a symbol of good health, prosperity and long life. He gratefully accepted the gift. "Thank you for letting me share many more happy birthdays with you," Derek kissed her again. He then made the crane perform a little dance on top of her book. "You know, I still can't believe Jo and Laurie never got together in the end."

Her delighted chuckled filled the small room. "Admit it, Morgan, you liked the girly story."

"Maybe, a little," Derek gave in. "At least it had a happy ending."

She nodded. "But happy endings are only for fairytales and other works of fiction," Emily replied. The book slipped off her lap, falling onto the cushioned seat. The crane followed that same path as she wrapped his left arm around her and looked out the window to where the sun was just starting to crest the horizon of their back yard.

Derek held Emily close, his cheek pressed against hers as he gazed out the window. "Then I suppose the most we can ask for in life is a hopeful ending," he whispered.

Together they watched the sun rise as a new day awoke.

* * *

**The End**

Well, I hope that was a soft enough landing after the rather bumpy ride I took you all on. Thank you very much for taking the journey with me, for reading, commenting and welcoming me into this fandom. I've had a great time playing with these characters and hope to do so again!


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